


A Generous Donation

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Humor, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2020-07-28 03:17:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 34,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: 20 years later, standing in the middle of the auditorium, he looked at a striking red-head, sticking out among sea of young faces.





	1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time there was a young assistant professor at Harvard named Fox Mulder. A handsome and exceptionally intelligent man, passing genetical muster in every possible way, who one rainy, November day found himself in dire need of cash.  
He turned to his friends for council, since they, being as broke as he was, were no good for money.  
“You’re a fine specimen of the male animal,” said Langly opening his fifth beer that evening, “there’s a market for that.”  
“I don't have time,” Mulder began but Byers cut him off.  
“Not like that."  
Langly grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "A sperm bank."  
“What?”  
“Donate.” Langly said mater of factly, while Mulders’ jaw landed on the table. “I did.”  
“Then they’re not too picky.”  
“Fuck off," he bristled, "I finished MIT, top of my class.”  
“Right, no.” Mulder said, with uncharacteristic finality, but the idea stuck. 

20 years later, standing in the middle of the auditorium, he looked at a striking red-head, sticking out among sea of young faces.  
“Logically I would have to say no,” she said, sticking her chin out defiantly, “energy requirements of intergalactic travel,”  
“Mom, c’mon that was a rhetorical question,” said William under his breath, slight blush barely noticeable on his warm complexion, so unlike her and yet.  
“It’s okay William,” Mulder said, sitting on the edge of the desk at the centre of the room, and turned back to the woman, huge smile on his face.  
“Conventional wisdom, very practical," he said and spoke to the room in general. "It’s practicality that got us to the moon, and one day will get us beyond our solar system. Dreamers would get nowhere without the skeptics keeping them in line and making them work to achieve their dreams.” Her forehead smoothed and she smiled back. “Perhaps the technology is unimaginable to us now, but one day we might think of space travel they way we think about flight. Thank you, mrs. Scully”  
“Miss,” the woman corrected him, still smiling, “I was never married.”  
“That explains the practical part.” Mulder said and addressed the rest of the class. “You managed to sidetrack me, as usual.” They laughed and he grinned at them, “but since this is our first class this year, I’ll let it slide. That’s it for today, go bother someone else.” He waved his hand and the room started to clear out, laughs and friendly smiles sent his way as people passed him by.  
With the corner of his eye, he saw William linger behind with his mom.  
“Questions, Will?” He asked the boy when they approached, but his eyes were on the blue ones of the petite, elegant woman next to him.  
“I didn’t mean to ruin your lecture,” she said, before Will spoke up. “Will kept going on and on about this course all summer.”  
“You didn’t ruin anything, we’re always open to discussion around here.” Mulder grinned, and leaned back on the desk again, “you have a great kid, miss Scully.”  
“I’m standing here,” Will said, obviously embarrassed.  
“You brought your mom to school,” Mulder laughed, “bare the consequences like a man.”  
Scully laughed, and patted his arm.  
“It was my idea, a dare, sort of,” she said, turning back to Mulder, “I didn’t think you’d notice, and then I got carried away.”  
“Good thing you have a cool mom,” he said to the boy, “your reputation will recover.”  
"Can we go now?" Will said to his mother, eager to get out.  
"We could have lunch," she said, looking Mulder in the eye.  
"People do tend to eat around this time."  
"Would you like to have lunch?" She said and Will turned on his heel.  
"I'm going, bye, see you next week, professor."  
"Have a good one, Will." Mulder said, never looking away from his mom. The doors opened, swung shut, he smiled. "So, about that lunch."  
"About those aliens," she said and grinned back.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why are you still up?" Scully asked hanging her coat in the closet.  
Will's feet dangled from the armrest of the couch, game on tv played on mute.  
"Extra reading from professor Mulder, due tomorrow."  
"Oh, you won’t have class with Mulder tomorrow."  
"What?" Will looked at her over the edge of the book. "You broke my professor?"  
"I did not break him," she said, feigning outrage, "cold did, I only refereed."  
"Seriously, you have to stop messing with my college education."  
"It was dinner, nothing more."  
She smiled and stopped on her way to the kitchen, to lean over him and kiss his forehead. Will coughed.  
“You still have that cough?"  
“I'm fine," he sighed, catching his breath, "it’ll pass eventually.”  
“It's making me worried," she said softly, perching herself on the edge of the couch, "come to the clinic tomorrow, we’ll draw some blood, do an x-ray.”  
“Fun but I can’t, I’ve got school.”  
“You have an hour to spare,” she said, brushing fingers through his chestnut mane, “humour your mother.”  
“Fine, whatever.” He said and picked up his book. She left him reading and went to fix herself a cup of tea. 

Mulder sipped coffee from a paper cup on his way to work. It's been a while since he talked to Scully and he was starting to feel the pull again, to pick up the phone and call and take her out to dinner. He didn't think he could be friends with a woman and it surprised him, how simple it was. Watching his friends and colleagues being dragged through courts by the very women they claimed to love forever, he never once felt the need to put himself through that. He had his job, his students, an odd girlfriend twice a year, he was content with his daily run, weekly basketball game at the Y, and semi-regular poker nights with the Gunmen. It was a happy life. But! If he could add some regular time with the good doctor he wouldn't mind. She was sharp and gorgeous and fun, and he didn't mind she had a kid, at all. He liked Will, so much that his absence from class was starting to worry him a little. 

The coffee grew cold as he wrapped his last lecture that week. Will's empty spot like a gaping hole in the lecture hall, filling him with irrational sense of dread.  
He dismissed the class and as the students filed out, he caught Will's name in one of the conversations.  
"We should go see him," said a cute blonde, Kimberly something.  
"At the hospital?" Her friend said, taken aback.  
"Well, yeah."  
"Kimberly?" Mulder called, before she stepped out.  
"Yes, professor?" She said, batting her eyelashes at him, as usual.  
"Do you know why Will isn't coming to classes anymore?"  
"Oh, I was just talking about that," she said, her smile fading, "he got sick, apparently it's bad."  
"How bad?" Mulder's blood went cold.  
"I'm not sure, but I heard some talk about organising a blood drive so," she sighed, hugging her binder tight.  
"I'm sure he's going to be fine," Mulder said, trying to keep his tone warm, despite his instincts screaming at him that something was very wrong, "let me know, if you need any help with the blood drive."  
"We will, thanks." She forced a smile and followed after her friend.  
No wonder Scully didn't call in weeks, though it wasn't as if they agreed to anything, except keeping things casual.  
_'Well, screw casual,"_ he thought, finding his way through the crowd and out to the parking lot. He had an appointment at the Boston General. 

She didn't pick up her phone, which could only mean she was working. Boston lunch time traffic was a murder, but the drive felt too short anyway, his emotions still reeling when he entered the main clinic. A young nurse at the registration caught the worst of it.  
"Sir, I need you to calm down." She said for the third time.  
"You don't understand," he said, trying to force the panic back down, "I need to see doctor Scully, now."  
"Do you have an appointment?"  
"No, but," her kid is sick and I need to do something, he though then paused. Who was he to assume, he just wanted to know what was going on. "Just, tell me where I can find her."  
"Neurology ward, but," the girl began but he didn't listen. One glance at the directory on the wall and he was heading for the elevator. 

He knocked on her office door, heard her call out and pushed the door.  
"Hi," he said sheepishly, doubts finally catching up to him.  
"Mulder," Scully said, rounding the desk, "is everything okay?"  
She reached out for him and he knew she did it unconsciously, guiding him to the couch and making him sit. For once he didn't find the lack of space funny.  
"Me? Are you?" He said folding her hands in his, "I heard about Will, how bad is it."  
"Oh God."  
She choked and he noticed her sunken face, worry lines on her forehead, dark bruises under her eyes. She looked like she would never smile again and he pulled her into his arms.  
"It's okay," he said, gently stroking her back.  
"No, it's not, it's bad, he will need a bone marrow transplant." She shuddered on the last words.  
"There are donor banks," he soothed, holding her tighter, realising the chances, "tell me everything."  
"It was just a cough," she said, against his shoulder, "but then his blood work came back and his cell counts were abysmal. It all went down hill after that."  
"He's a strong kid," he tried, but really, what did he know, "he'll get through this."  
She crumbled in silence, melting into his arms, and he didn't know what else to do but hold her up.  
"It’s all mu fault," she whispered after a while, "God is punishing my pride."  
"What?"  
"I thought I could do it all by myself."  
"You did good," Mulder whispered, rocking her lightly.  
"And now I will loose him."  
“You won’t,” he said, a little more forcefully, drawing her closer, “and you're not alone, it’s gonna be fine.”  
"Mulder," she sighed.  
"Never give up on a miracle." He said, before reason sent her under again.  
He held her for long minutes, breathing her shampoo and hospital disinfectant. He knew he had no power to make this right, they had dinner a few times and the kid was his student, but something in his heart broke and he couldn't sit idly and watch them suffer.  
"Test me," he said once her silent tears dried out.  
"I can’t," Scully said, looking up, "I can't ask you for that."  
"And you can ask strangers?" He raised one eyebrow at her, and she softened a little. "We have the same blood type."  
"How do you know that?"  
"It came up in a discussion once," he shrugged, "I'm a universal donor, 0 negative, so test me."  
"There's more things to consider. The probability of finding a match,"  
"Is zero if you don't try," he cut her off and she frowned, "c'mon, I'm sure you have that sterile swab thing here somewhere."  
"I do," she said.  
"Go get it then."  
She pulled away and got up, and he instantly felt better. Not because she was gone, but because he was finally doing something to help them. Scully rummaged through things in the glass cabinet and came back a minute later, plastic tube and a syringe in hand.  
"Blood will be better," she said.  
"You're the doctor," he said, and shrugged out of his jacket.  
Scully rolled up his sleeve and tightened the tourniquet above the elbow. She prodded around the crook of his arm for a few seconds and looked up.  
"Are you sure you want to do this? I won't hold it against you if not."  
"Do your worst."  
He said, confident as ever and she snapped on a pair of latex gloves, broke the seal on the needle and drew blood. He didn't flinch. She was that good.  
"There," Scully said a minute later, pressing a piece of gauze to the crook of his elbow, not letting go.  
"I know it's not the time to make vampire jokes," he said, "but there's definitely one in here somewhere." Corners of her lips went up for the first time since he walked in.  
"You should talk to Will about that," Scully said and the smile vanished again, taking last of Mulder's humour with it. She could stop his arm from bleeding, but not his heart, not with her hands at least, so he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, gentle but solid, making his heart skip a beat, because she kissed him back.  
"You won’t loose your kid," he said, leaning his forehead against hers, her breath on his lips warm and sweet.  
"I can't." She said and cupped his cheek, brushing one more kiss over his lower lip.


	3. Chapter 3

Mulder paused by the door, peeking inside, not wanting to disturb the boy in case he was asleep. He wasn't. Will laid in bed, hooked up to an IV, a book spread open on his chest while he looked out the window. It was as grey as it could be in Boston in late November.  
Mulder knocked and peeked inside.  
"Hi," he said, "mind if I come in?"  
"No, sure," Will said, slightly embarrassed, scrambling to sit up, as if he was okay, though clearly wasn't. "Hi professor."  
Mulder wanted to stop him, words ready, but before he spoke, Will hissed and froze, cradling his hand to his chest.  
"Easy there," Mulder said, crossing the room in three strides, "everything okay?"  
"I pulled on the IV line." Will sighed and looked at his hand.  
"You want me to call someone?"  
"No, it's okay, it didn't go out."  
"You seem to know your way around this stuff."  
"My mom's a doctor, I learn fast."  
Mulder pulled up a chair, hung his jacket over the back and sat down.  
"So," Will said and paused.  
"So," Mulder replied, in standard male.  
"Mom finally told you?"  
"No," he sighed and leaned on his elbows, "your friends from class, Kimberly."  
"Kim?" Will shook his head, exasperated. "She's not my friend, she only wished she was."  
Mulders' eyebrows went up. "Whoa, that's harsh."  
"Why? Because I won't lead her on?" He challenged, a hint of scorn in his voice.  
"Will, I know you think this sick thing is permanent."  
"No, it's been going on since before I got sick." The boy said and sank into the pillow, not pleased. "She's been batting her lashes at me this whole semester."  
"And you?"  
"Nothing, I just don't look at her that way, she's so…"  
"What?" Mulder asked, trying to hide a smile.  
"I don't know, not my type."  
"So you have a type."  
"Sure I do."  
"And what' might that be?"  
"Someone with enough brains to hold a decent conversation."  
"And Kim's not that girl." _Harvard student with no brains? In his class?_  
"Nope." Will said and looked at Mulder, catching his frown. "I mean, she's nice and cute as hell, but we're completely different people. She's from Atlantic City and she never heard about the Jersey Devil."  
Mulder couldn't help himself, he laughed.  
"I'm not saying I believe it exists," Will said, arms folded over his chest, "but I accept the possibility."  
"Right, listen," Mulder said, balancing the chair on its' hind legs, "with bar set this high, you might have a problem finding a girl."  
"I don't care, I've got standards." He said, then cocked his head to one side. "How about you?"  
"What?"  
"You've got a type?"  
"I'm too old to have a type."  
"How about my mom?"  
"Your mom?" Mulder let the chair drop.  
"Yeah, what's going on between you two."  
"Nothing." Mulder said, remembering her soft mouth.  
"Bullshit." Will said narrowing his eyes. "You smiled."  
"You're a funny kid." He tried to deflect, unsuccessfully.  
"No, that's not it, you smiled because you remembered something."  
Mulder sat up straight, a slight warning this time. "Now look."  
"I'm not a kid," Will said, firm but not challenging, sounding just like his mother, "I know you're both adult and single, but let's be honest, when I'm gone."  
Mulders' anger vanished and he said softly. "Will."  
"I need to know if you plan on staying." Will said, looking out the window again.  
"Will, you can't think like that." Mulder sighed and got pinned down with a glare. Right, not a kid. "Right now, me and your mom, we're friends, and whatever she needs, or you need, from me, I'll do my best to make it happen, no strings attached."  
They looked at each other for a long moment and finally Will's expression softened.  
"You really believe that."  
"I do," Mulder said and picked up the book, now sitting closed on the edge of the night table, ready to change the subject. "What's this?"  
"It's moms', Moby Dick." Will said, curling up in bed. The little match made him look exhausted.  
"Couldn't she find something lighter to read?"  
"Grandpa Ahab used to read it to me, when mom worked nightshifts."  
"So grandpa liked ships." Mulder said, pausing to look at the drawings.  
"He was a navy captain," Will sighed letting his eyes fall shut.  
Mulder flipped through pages and a bookmark fell out, an old polaroid. In frame, on a pier in front of a huge grey-blue aircraft carrier, Scully crouched behind Will, six years old at best, his tiny palm touching the visor of a white sailors' hat, sitting on his head, adorably askance. They both laughed.  
Mulder looked up at the boy, then the book in his lap, and began to read.


	4. Chapter 4

Scully took Mulder's blood sample to the lab and called Walter, asking him to get back to her with his opinion, as soon as he got the results.  
The past few weeks, worry was her default state of mind. Once Will went through all the children's ailments, he never really got sick. He laughed about it, running around in shorts when she burrowed in scarves and long sleeves. Now the thought of loosing his warmth made her blood run ice cold.  
The minute she saw Mulder walk through her door, she thought, _not you, too._ He was practically a stranger, someone she laughed with over chicken marsala and cheesecake desert. Yet in that moment, his face and kind eyes and warm hands, made her feel like he could, and would, put himself between her and the edge of darkness. Most guys would stop taking her calls and run, but he came looking for her and for the first time in weeks, she felt comforted.  
Scully's phone chirped and she sighed, seeing the caller ID.  
"Hi mom."  
"Hello honey, how's Will?"  
"He was alright this morning when I went to see him."  
"Good, that's good, and how's the other thing going?"  
"It's not like opening a phone book, we're looking, and I told you, it's a precaution, we're waiting to see, how he responds to treatment."  
"And if the treatment doesn't work and you won't have any time left?"  
"I am not sitting on my hands." Scully said, thinking, _I just stuck a needle into someone I just met._  
"If you would let me find some private foundation, it would go…"  
"I know it would go faster," Scully said bitterly, "but let's wait with kicking someone out of the line, till we know there's no other way around it."  
"I see no reason to wait."  
"Well, I do, mom," _I'm not giving up yet,_ "and I have to go."  
"Alright, we'll talk more about this later."  
_I hope not,_ Scully thought and hung up. 

She went to see Will around dinner time to keep him company, and as usual, he tried to send her away.  
"Go home mom," he said smiling faintly, "you'll need your strength to save me."  
"I've got plenty," she replied patting his hand, "I'm so strong, you can't even imagine."  
"I can imagine quite a bit."  
"Well, multiply that by one hundred and you'll know how strong I can be."  
"Wow, can I have some of it?"  
"You can have it all," she sighed, keeping her voice even as tears stung her eyes.  
"Good, I always wanted to leap over buildings and race speeding cars."  
"My hero," she smiled and picked up the book from his night table, found the bookmark and stared at the picture. "You did some reading today."  
"I had help." Will said, turning to his side, "professor Mulder stopped by. I hope Harvard won't charge us extra for home visits." Scully huffed out a laugh and closed the book, when Will added. "I like him."  
"He's a great teacher, from what I heard," she said.  
"No, I mean for you."  
"Will."  
"I'm almost twenty, mom, it's time for you to start dating, for real this time."  
"I'm too old," Scully sighed, but the memory of the kiss softened her smile.  
"Maybe in dog years," Will chuckled, laying on the sarcasm, "you keep up that talk, and I'll make you a grandma."  
"What?"  
"As soon as I get out of here."  
"You will most certainly not." She laughed, swatting his arm.  
"Ouch!" Will faked a yelp, but didn't let go of the subject. "Mother, you're forty six, which is the new thirty five, you're hot, and you already have a guy lined up."  
"William," she warned.  
"I'm just saying."  
"How about we make a deal." She said and he crossed his arms, "you get better and I'll give the dating game one more shot."  
Will paused, his expression cleared and he grinned, sticking out his hand out, ""You're on, shake on it?"  
"Deal," she said and smiled. "Now tell me, why won't you take grandmas' calls."  
He groaned and threw the sheet over his head, making her laugh. 

An hour later she was sitting in the ringing silence of her car, no one to go home to, no one to talk to. Will was right, it was time. 

"Coming!"  
Mulder yelled, trying to rub water out of his ear and zip up his jeans, all at the same time. Failing at both, he let the towel drop around his neck and with the button undone and his t-shirt untucked, he opened the door, and froze.  
"You're not my usual delivery guy." He said and smiled, leaning on the doorframe.  
Scully smiled back and held up a takeout bag. "29.99"  
"Got change for a hundred?" He stepped back and gestured her in.  
"Nope," she said and, climbing on tiptoes, kissed his cheek.  
"Keep the change." He grinned and took the bag, saying, "Hi, again."  
"Hi." She smiled and looked him up and down, from towel-dried hair and six-o-clock shadow on his cheeks, grey t-shirt and faded jeans, all the way to his bare feet. He looked warm and solid and completely at ease.  
"Can I have your coat?" Mulder said, then added, a little uncertain, "I assume you're staying."  
"You assume correctly," she said, then paused, "wait, you ordered already?"  
"Yup, Chinese, great minds think alike," he took her coat and hung it on the rack. "We'll have seconds," he said and headed for the kitchen, giving her a minute to look around.  
The room was warm, another pleasant surprise after the wide porch and warm light from the outside. There was fire in the fireplace, a rug under the couch and the coffee table, papers and knickknacks and books in bookcases. Actually, books seemed to cover every inch of free space, even stacked on steps leading to the second floor, which made her chuckle. Well, he was a professor of psychology at Harvard, she might have expect that. She followed Mulder and found a kitchen that was just right, with its' small dining area. Cutting boards and oven mitts looked used, knives had worn handles and banged-up mugs hung by their ears on a railing over the work table. There was even some dishes left in the sink, and she loved the place for what it was, not a flashy bachelors' pad, not an overgrown sleeping area, but a home, lived in and comfortable.  
"There's beer in the fridge," Mulder said, taking plates and napkins to the table. "You want some?"  
"Why not." She opened the fridge and to her surprise, there was more than just beer there too. She picked two bottles of Shiner Bock and opened them both, handing one to Mulder.  
"Cheers," he said, clinking his against hers and pulled out a chair for her, like a real gentleman. "Sorry about the mess, I didn't expect company."  
"What mess?" She said and started to unload the cartons of fried rice, spicy pork and sweet and sour chicken. "You should see our place when I work double shifts. Will does most of the cleaning anyway."  
"Wow, you raised one hell of a catch." Mulder chuckled, draped the towel over the back of his chair and sat down, accepting chopsticks she held out.  
"There was only the two of us, so we grew up fast."  
"Yeah, I know what that's like."  
"And what made you grow up?"  
"My little sister, she went missing when I was twelve."  
"I'm sorry."  
She dropped her gaze, and Mulder could almost see the light in her fade. He couldn't have that.  
"Hey, it was long time ago," he said, and started forking out rice on her plate. "Here, eat, you need it."  
She picked up a chunk of sticky rice, put it in her mouth and tried to chew, but suddenly her throat closed. She looked at the food, at his hands, and the room turned into a warm-coloured blur. A sob broke free and huge, hot tears ran down her cheeks, and then warm darkness took her in.  
"Shhhh, it's okay, let it all out, don't hold back"  
Mulder crooned, his arms tight around her for the second time that day, and she sobbed even harder into his shoulder, feeling gentle hands cradle and soothe her. She fell in deeper, pulling him closer and did as he said. She thought about the injustice of it all, felt the pain and anger and helplessness, and let it all pour out of her, not in words but raw emotion. She fell apart, letting him hold her together as she bawled, while the food grew cold on the table.  
When she quieted and her breath came almost even, he asked softly. "Better?"  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, "it's so unlike me. I never break down like this."  
"Your kid is sick, I'd be worried if you wouldn't." He said, his own voice not quite steady.  
Scully looked up and there were tears in his eyes, wet trails on his cheeks. "Hey, and why are you crying?"  
"You should never cry alone," he said and his eyes fell shut when she wiped his cheeks, "it's bad luck."  
"Who makes up these rules?"  
"Fuck if I know, think you can eat now?"  
She glanced at the cold pork, it still looked fine. "Yes, sorry about that."  
"Stop apologising for everything, it's bad luck."  
"Mulder?" She said, letting go and missing his arms instantly.  
"Yeah?"  
"Kiss me."  
Mulder grinned and leaned in, brushing her tearstained cheek.  
"For luck," he whispered and pulled up a chair to sit beside her. 

They ate the second delivery while it was hot, packing up the first as leftovers and took their third beers to the couch.  
"You wanna watch something?" Mulder asked, jumping because he almost sat on the remote. Scully leaned on his shoulder, pulled her feet up and sighed.  
"I'm so full, I can't think right now."  
"Good." Mulder said and flipping through channels found Julia Roberts on third try. Short hair, ugly dress, Sally Fields. He changed it, and fast.  
"Thanks," Scully murmured.  
"No problem, let's see it we can find something safe," he chuckled, "like WWE."  
"Hokey," she chuckled.  
"Tenis?"  
"Swimming," she said, teasing, "young, toned and practically naked."  
"Did I tell you I was on the swim team?"  
"You have now." She giggled and snuggled closer.  
Mulder stopped flipping through channels, when he saw Mel Gibson feeding biscuits to a Rottweiler.  
"Lethal Weapon."  
"That's a very guy movie."  
"You've seen that one too?"  
"I have a son." She said, but there was no pain in her voice anymore, only drowsy, full stomach contentment.  
"Okay, so you pick a movie and I'll make popcorn."  
"You still have room left?"  
"For popcorn? Always."  
She took the remote and turned to look after him. 6 feet tall, he couldn't weigh more than 180.  
"You have a gym in the basement I should know about? Where do you put it all."  
"I lied, I never quit the swim team," he chuckled rummaging through one of the cupboards, "and I run."  
"Where?"  
"Oh, here, there, depends on the day, why?"  
"I might join you sometime."  
"You see, we do have things in common." He said and slammed the microwave doors shut. It whooshed and soon enough, began to pop. 

She fell asleep, with her head on his shoulder and her whole weight leaned under his arm, and when the credits rolled and Sting sang how he'd lay down his life for a friend, Mulder thought, _"You and me both, man."_  
God, she was a beautiful, with her features relaxed, lips parted in sleep, and a stand of hair falling over her cheek. Awake she was too distracting, he couldn't keep up with her smiles and tiny frowns, she was a sensory overload, and he didn't even dare to imagine, what she'd be like to touch. If he tried, he wouldn't be able to stop, and after the day she had, she needed rest to regain her strength. He knew how to be patient.  
Shifting, he stretched out on the couch, never easing the grip on her, making her shift with him, and Scully went down with him. Wedging herself between him and the couch, half draped over his side, not even half awake as he pulled the blanket over them both.  
"Shhh, it's okay," he whispered, when she shifted to fit his arms more comfortably.  
"Kiss," she mumbled, "bad luck."  
"Right," and stifling a laugh, he kissed her forehead. "Goodnight."  
"'Night." She sighed and was out.  
Mulder clicked the tv off, and last ambers in the fireplace were the only light that was left.  
_"I don't want to love you,"_ he thought, but as he did, he knew it was already too late.


	5. Chapter 5

She woke up with a cramp in her neck, a dead arm and beginnings of a headache somewhere behind her eyes. She was also alone, a bit too warm and definitely needed to do something about the teeth and breath situation. Embarrassing was the word.  
She just went ahead and spent the night, and they didn't even have sex yet. She just cast herself as the weepy-needy middle-aged… the front door opened and in came Mulder, bringing with him the scent of rain, his windbreaker dripping with water. Scully sat up and tried to look like none of the things she felt like and thought, _"Don't call me sunshine." _  
"Good morning." Mulder said, stepping out of his wet shoes, bakery bag in hand.  
"Hi," she tried, had to clear her throat, tried again. " Morning."  
"You brought dinner, so I thought it was only fair to bring breakfast."  
"You didn't have too," she said, looking for her shoes, "I imposed on your hospitality enough for one day." _Try a decade._  
"You needed sleep, I didn't mind company," he must have noticed her chagrin, because his tone turned alarmed. "Wait, where are you going?"  
"Home," she said, combing fingers through her hair and pushing herself up from the couch. Without the afghan she instantly felt cold, but it sobered her up. "I've got things to do."  
He stood there, half way between the kitchen and the couch, looking dumbfounded as she crossed the floor and kissed the air next to his ear.  
"Thank you for dinner." She said and turned on her heel, grabbing her purse and coat from the rack on her way out.

"But, I brought muffins." Mulder said as the doors slammed shut behind her.  
Rain pelted against the roof, drowning out the ringing silence, the gunned engine and wheels spitting gravel, and Mulder went back to the kitchen. He took one of the mugs he left sitting next to the coffee maker, and hung it back on its' hook over the worktable. The story of his life. Maybe next time, or maybe another life, he will have more luck.  
He poured himself a cup of coffee, took the newspaper out of the delivery bag and went to his office in the basement, Saturday morning as usual. The muffins stayed on the table, untouched in their paper bag.

For once morning traffic was on her side. Rain probably made everyone have breakfast in bed, sipping coffee snuggled between sheets, or on a couch, sharing blankets and toast.  
Well, she couldn't afford that, she had things to do. She had to clean the bathroom and change sheets, and do some grocery shopping, and all of that, before she went to see Will. Yes, she had to keep on moving. Otherwise she'd start to think, how well she slept, for the first time in weeks.  
She got home and turned into a pinball. Shrugging out of her coat on the way to the kitchen, she fed the coffee maker water and ground beens and flipped the switch, then went through the bedrooms, Wills' and her own, stripping sheets and her clothes, she picked a pair of yoga pants and a faded hoodie and went to the bathroom, starting the shower and a load of laundry while she was there. By the time she was done showering and brushing her teeth, the coffee was done, making her feel better, if only slightly.  
An hour later, she barely heard the intercom over the noise from the vacuum cleaner.  
"Yes?"  
"Help, I'm drowning!" Said a familiar voice and she buzzed the visitor in, opening the door and looking down the flight of stairs. Squeak followed by a squish, and soon enough, a tall, lanky figure turned the corner.  
"You hear that?" Charlie said looking up, "that's the sound of the biblical flood."  
"You better not get any of it inside, I just scrubbed the floors."  
"Hey! I crossed the ocean to see you!"  
"Charlie, you live on the other side of town."  
"Nag, nag, nag." He said, and grinned, stopping to wipe his shoes before leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Hi sis."  
"I'll get you a towel." She said and let him in.  
"And I'll remember you in my will." 

With a mug of coffee and a towel draped behind his neck, Charlie sat at the breakfast bar in her kitchen. Short, red curls bouncing back to their usual, casual messiness did nothing to dilute the sharp focus of his gaze behind horn-rimmed glasses.  
"You look better." He said, cocking his head to one side and watching her make sandwiches. "Is Will out of the woods?"  
"No," she sighed, slicing tomatoes, "his blood work is still crap. Mom is insisting on pursuing alternative routs to finding a donor, in case he needs one."  
"Does he?"  
"Walt says, it's best to cover all fronts."  
"I wish I could help."  
"You did, you didn't match," she said and joined him, setting a plate between them, "you can't help your genes, even if we share most of them."  
"Right, so, it's not Will, and it's not good news from the big boss, so what is it?"  
Scully filled her mouth with bread, careful not to look up.  
"Nothing, I just had a good nights' sleep." She said, when silence stretched.  
"I tried calling yesterday," he said.  
"You did?"  
"No one answered."  
"Why didn't you call my cell?" She said, swallowing the last bite.  
"It wasn't exactly an emergency." Charlie replied, then shook his head, giving up, "fine, keep your secrets."  
"I slept with a guy." She blurted out, hiding her face in her palms.  
"Hallelujah," Charlie grinned and patted her head.  
"I mean, we didn't have sex," she said, "we just fell asleep, after dinner."  
"And that's why you're embarrassed, I get it." He teased.  
"No!" She moaned, her forehead landing on the tabletop. "I'm a terrible mom."  
"Because you let go for one night?"  
"Oh God, you just don't get it."  
"Then explain it to me," he poked her arm, trying to make her look up. "I know Will is in a hospital, but you can't stay with him all day and all night. Who is this guy?"  
"He's Wills' professor."  
"The Harvard guy?"  
"You know about Mulder?"  
"Will might have mentioned something?" He hedged.  
"When?"  
"I called one night, he picked up, said you were out, I got curious."  
"My son is gossiping about my love life."  
"Love?" Charlie drawled, poking her some more.  
"Stop."  
"Okay, this might sound weird but hear me out." Scully looked up, her cheeks flushed, "You ready? Here it goes: people need other people." He said, pausing between each word as if he was speaking a foreign language. "It's okay to have different people around you, because they fulfil different needs. You needed that guy last night, you went for it, life goes on."  
"It sounds awful like using people to me."  
"Kind of, if you make them feel like they lost something in the end. Did you?"  
"I don't know," she sank back into the comfort of her kitchen table, "I ran away."  
"Danes," he groaned.  
"I brought dinner to his place, then I cried and fell asleep on his couch, and when I woke up, I panicked."  
"Why? I thought you wanted to be there."  
"I did, but my son might be dying," she said meekly, "and I'm a wreck, and no one deserves to be dragged into this. It's not fair."  
"What did he do, when you broke down?" Charlie asked, suddenly serious.  
"He hugged me."  
"Okay, come here." He tugged at her sleeve and she went, rounding the breakfast bar to stand in front of her brother. With him sitting on the bar stool, they were almost the same hight. "Closer." Charlie said and took her hands, drawing her into his arms, warm and solid and familiar. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and sighed, wrapping her arms around him. "Did it feel like this?"  
"No," she said, honestly.  
"Good." He said and let go, and she straightened, meeting his warm, blue eyes. "He gives you something on one else can, and from what I hear, he does it willingly. Don't be a martyr, Will needs his mom, sane and lucid, and if this Harvard guy can keep you this way, give him a chance."  
She groaned and fell forward again, certain he'd catch her.  
"Now what?" Charlie asked, patting her back and failing to stifle a chuckle.  
"I hate it when you're right."  
He laughed and rocked her gently, patting her back.


	6. Chapter 6

"Will's gonna love this." Charlie said and pushed the door open, grinning. "Hey kid!"   
"Uncle Charlie!" Will beamed, pushing away his lunch tray, the food barely touched. "Mom didn't say you'll stop by."   
"She didn't know," Charlie said and glanced at the tray, "I didn't know, I'm sorry, but what is that?"   
"The flat thing with the brown thing," Will said, vaguely disgusted.   
"Okay, you're not eating this," Charlie said and set the paper bag on the table, "we brought you real food."   
Will glanced inside and almost jumped. "Mom's lasagna," he said and puled of the lid, moaning in pleasure, "still warm!"   
Scully watched the whole exchange from a distance, afraid to brea the spell, her boy's smile was a rare thing these days. Between meds and the nausea they gave him, he barely ate, which was all the more disconcerting, since he ate for two since he turned twelve. Now he laughed and poked the dish, ready to devour it, layer by layer, as he always did.   
"What are you watching?" Charlie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, fork and a box of his own in hand.  
"Dunno, daytime tv," Will said around a bite of pasta, "it's like the food, that thing with that guy on channel eleven."  
"Mhmm," Charlie mumbled then moaned. "This is better than moms'," he said, looking at Scully. "Why are you so quiet, sis?"   
She smiled and went to sit next to her son, putting her arm around him, "I just like watching you kids." 

The sun had time to set, dinner was served and Will finally kicked them out, claiming that it was time for fun tv start.   
"Thanks for coming with me," Scully said, as they crossed the street.  
"I'll come by more often," Charlie promised, not sounding like his usual carefree self and when she caught his eye, he looked as lost as she felt sometimes.   
"He will make it through this, right?" He asked, when they stopped by her car. Scully smiled softly and pulled her brother into a hug.  
"He will," she said, rubbing his back. "You will take him to all the games in the spring."   
"You promise?"   
"I'll be there with you, eating hot dogs."   
"We have a deal then."  
"I've been making a lot of those lately."   
"Yeah?" He sighed, letting her go, his smiled back, if not as bright as before. "Well, you usually win, so."  
"Let's stick with that version," she smiled and looked away, covering it by smoothing out the coat on her little brother. "You sure, you don't want me to take you home?"   
"I'll be fine, and besides, I think you still have someone, you need to see tonight."   
"It can wait, I could."   
"Dana," Charlie sighed rolling his eyes, exasperated, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Take care, sis." He said, and pulling up his collar agains the November chill, turned and walked down the street.   
Scully watched him go, until he disappeared in the subway entrance, then got into her car and drove away. 

Ringing the doorbell did nothing to calm her pulse, but she swallowed her pride along with the heart in her throat and waited, and waited. She was almost ready to ring again, but the doors opened and there he was, in jeans and a black sweater, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. His sleeves were pushed up and his cheeks were dark, but it was the glasses, that made him look like a professor. A very roughish professor.   
"Let me call you back," Mulder said to the phone and hung up, looking puzzled.  
"Was that your usual delivery guy?" She asked.  
He smiled and took a step back to let her through. "No, but I am having a weird sense of deja vu."   
Scully came in and noticed papers littering his coffee table, the game on tv, and deciding that he was obviously working and she was intruding, held out the paper bag.  
"I owe you an apology," she said, straight to business.  
Mulder took the bag, without looking inside. "For what?"   
"I'm sorry I ran away this morning," she said, meeting his eyes, "I'm not used to being taken care of."   
"You brought dinner, I cleaned, so I'd say we took care of each other." He smiled and she rolled her eyes.  
"That's not what I mean," she said, ready to make him understand, but Mulder already moved on the the the bag.  
"What's this?" He asked, then peeked inside. "No."   
"It's lasagna."   
"You made this?"   
"Well, yes, it's not much."   
"Not much?" He parroted, grinning like a kid as he took out the dish, but then the smile faded a little. "You're staying, right?"   
She expected him to be cranky not hopeful, and taken by surprise, it was impossible to say no, or dwell on how familiar that grin looked for a second.  
"If it's no trouble." She said and his arm was around her, leading her to the kitchen.  
"It's no trouble at all, I insist, please," Mulder theatrically rushed through the pleasantries, "share with me this fine meal."  
"Can I take off my coat fist?" She laughed, charmed the same as the last time.  
"If you must," he said but then added, softly. "Just don't run," he said, no longer teasing, "not from me."   
"I'll try," she said, and leaned a little into his side, before going back to hang her coat.   
"This is too good for the microwave, it needs the real deal." Mulder said turning the knob on the oven and pulled the lid off the box, then whistled. "There's more than enough for two."   
She wrapped her arms around his waist, making his smile even wider. "You planned this," he said, turning to face her and drawing her in.   
"It's always better reheated." She said feeling him chuckle. "Don't you love that feeling, when you come home and don't have to cook, because the food's already done?"   
"Yeah," he sighed, holding her close while the kitchen filled with the scent of cheese, tomatoes and herbs."How's Will doing today?"   
"Better," she said, leaning into him, "it was one of the better days."   
Scully leaned her cheek on his shoulder and soaked up his warmth, strength and comfort.

An hour later, Mulder was done singing praise for the food, the cook and the company, and Scully all but forgot about her morning stunt.   
She moved to the couch with her glass of wine, picking the corner with the best view of the fireplace. She kicked off her shoes, turned the volume on the tv a shade below whisper and listened to the cracking fire, until Mulder was done cleaning up and came to join her. He took the other end of the couch and her feet into his lap.   
"You earned it," he said, before she could protest, feeling her instep, toes and heels.   
"I'll take that as a complement," she sighed and let him massage her feet while she looked around, noticing the papers on the coffee table. "I caught you in the middle of something."   
"Typical Saturday night, articles to review, papers to grade."  
"You sure know how to have fun."   
"What," he sounded genuinely offended, "I've got book club next week."   
"And what are you reading?"   
"Beginners guide to solestry," he teased and kept the gentle kneading. "It's like palmistry but for feet, I could read yours if you want."   
"Maybe some other time," she said leaning back, enjoying the warmth of his hands.   
Scully sipped her wine and watched him work the tension out, smiling, every time he caught her eye, and it felt impossibly good. She could handle the wine and the food, even his disarmingly unselfish gesture, but the three combined were melting her bones into the couch along with her better judgment. She was not the kind of person who told herself to screw consequences, unless she had a very good reason, like his thumbs sending flashes of sensation to places, her rational mind knew had no connection to her feet. Reflexology was a pseudo-science, with no concrete evidence to support it, except the heat that was building inside her, from the inside out.   
"You look better, you know." Mulder said after watching her for a long moment.   
"I feel better," she said and leaned over to set the glass on the table.   
Gently pulling her feet out of his grasp, she crossed the line to his side of the couch and then straddled his lap. Mulder's arms were around her without hesitation, drawing her closer with that maddening slow confidence, splayed on her back and sliding up. He took everything in stride, her breasts pressed against his chest, her arms around his shoulders, and when she paused with her lips an inch away, she felt his breath and thought. _Screw it._ And he beat her to it.


	7. Chapter 7

She kissed him back like it just might be the last kiss on Earth. Long and hungry and completely unabashed. He might have been the one who closed the distance, but she held on to his shoulders and kept him in place with fingers twined in his hair, shifting against him, stealing his breath. It was a direct assault, no prisoners taken, and he had to push back, forcing her to unlatch, just to get some oxygen.  
"Hold on," he panted against her lips, kissing of any sting she might feel, "I'm not twenty."  
"Thank God," she teased, but slowed down, feeling his lips in single kisses, "just so, you know, I'm not, desperate."  
"What?"  
"I want you."  
"Ditto," he grinned and grabbed her ass.  
"I'm fine and this is not some,"  
"Cry for attention?"  
"Yeah,"  
"One day, PC will kill romance," he chuckled and kissed her pulse, "but consent is important."  
"It's given, freely, consciously," she grinned, grinding her ass against his hands, "and you talk too much."  
"So I've been told," he whispered in her ear then licked her earlobe, "occupational hazard."  
She laughed, feeling stubble against delicate skin. "I guess you don't get to be, a professor at Harvard by being a good listener."  
"I can listen," he said between kisses, going back down her neck.  
"How about," she grinned, scratching his scalp, "you show me, what you've got. And I tell you, if I like it, or not."  
Mulder chuckled and looked up, "you want me to apply for the job?"  
"I want you," she said, combing fingers through his hair and gently pulling his head back, "to be yourself." She kissed his mouth, sliding the tip of her tongue over his lower lip. "It's not a test."  
"You say so now," he smiled against her lips, "but later, you'll sit at lunch with your best friends."  
Hand on her breast squeezed then slipped and he tickled her side through thin cotton of her button-down. Scully giggled, trying to escape but only squirming more, his arm around her waist held her in place.  
"You watched too much Sex and The City."  
"It was research." Mulder chuckled and claimed her lips again.  
This time they paced themselves. He untucked her shirt, working his way up through buttons and sloppily returning kisses until the last one gave. The fabric fell away and he felt skin and lace, burying his face in her cleavage and squeezed her breasts. The lace, though soft, spoiled the effect.  
"I love this bra," he panted, trying to get his mind straight enough to think about the clasp, but her hands were already there, one pull and the gates of heaven have opened.  
He bent down and tipping her back, latched on, laving and sucking, making her moan. Silk and warmth under his hands and her constant shifting in his lap, sent his head spinning. He wanted her now, like this, on this couch, but he also wanted to know her all, learn all the textures and tastes and just enjoy. He was hard and she was hot and it was easy to get lost.  
"You like this?" He panted, letting go of her breast, having loved them both.  
"It's okay," she said and he looked up, catching up on the tease, "but you're still dressed."  
"Sorry, got distracted," he grinned and pulled the sweater, along with the tee under it, off his back. Scully leaned back to make room, and when he surfaced, her shirt and bra were gone, and her arms were open.  
"C'mere," she said and pulled him back, pressing her lithe body into his chest.  
She kissed him long and hard and wherever her hands wandered, his skin tingled, sending shivers up and down his spine, his cock growing harder with each pass.  
He broke free from her lips and pressed a kiss under her jaw. "You want more?"  
"I want it all," she panted, dropping the tease, and there was joy in her voice, pure abandon.  
He tightened his grip and she held on, letting him lower her to the cushions.  
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, kissing down her neck and shoulder, then across her collarbone.  
"No, I got stretch marks, and cellulite and things are starting to sag," she whined.  
"You're joking, right?"  
"Yeah," she laughed, "but tell me more."  
"Well, these are pretty outstanding tits, you've got here," he circled his tongue around her nipple then flicked the tip, she shivered, "yup, wonderful, 10 out of 10," he switched and did the same to the other one, "times two."  
Scully laughed and smacked his shoulder, folding her arm over her eyes. "Go on."  
Scratching her sides gently, Mulder obliged, kissing her sternum, and down her belly, "and you clearly work out, my cutting board isn't this flat."  
"Lots of steam to burn off," she sighed, and he chased the motion, turning it into a laugh with the tip of his nose.  
"Stressful job, being a doctor," he agreed and moved on, reaching the button on her jeans. "Now this, this I don't like," he said, making her pull herself up, propped up on her elbows, wearing nothing but a frown from the waist up.  
"What's wrong with my jeans?"  
"Nothing, very nice jeans, great ass inside them, I think."  
"You think?"  
"I can't see it, now, can I."  
"Oh, for crying out loud," she groaned and reached for the button.  
"Wait, do it slow." He instructed, watching her hand, and she got it.  
Shifting to get out of the way, he watched up close how she arched her back to pull free the belt. He stroked down her thigh and calf till he reached her socks and pulled them off, all the while watching her pop the button through its' hole, find the tab on the zipper and pull it down slow. She hooked her thumbs under the edge, and lifted her hips, right into his face.  
"God, you're good at this," grinned and buried his face in her jeans, breathing her in.  
"Will you let me finish?" She laughed, and he shook his head, still in her crotch. "Mulder, c'mon."  
He didn't let go, but took the edge off her jeans and started pulling them down, just as slow, kissing every inch he uncovered. The pants were a tight fit, but once they cleared her hips, she had no time to think, because his tongue was already searching, slipping past skin and bumping her clit. She fell back, feeling his hands cup her ass and lift her to his mouth, licking and flicking, while her thighs were bound and she was pulled into this one tight peak, like a pinched sheet, swelling around it, but needing more still, it was a cruel tease.  
"Mulder?" She warned, and he let go.  
Grinning, he pulled her pants down and away, and she was free, and his mouth was on her, her thigh over his shoulder, her breast in his hand, nipple trapped between fingers, and his tongue everywhere. He circled and stroked, and dipped and stroked some more, it was like they never had dinner, and she was his main course. She dug in her heels trying to get some control and he slowed down.  
"Too much?" He rasped, letting go, only to kiss the inside of her thigh.  
"Slow down," she gasped, felt him shift, the hand caressing her thigh vanished.  
"Tell me, when it's too much," he said and she felt his fingers inside her.  
Two long digits curling and teasing, while his tongue worked her clit, build the heat until he found the spot, he was looking for. Surprised the first time, she twitched and moaned, but he stayed there, and they began moving and panting together. She clawed at his shoulders and tugged at his hair, but he didn't let go till she vibrated, like a taut string of a fine tuned instrument. Then he sucked hard and pushed deep, cutting off her moans and after a second, she was limp, pulsing and twitching around his hand, no longer fighting him. He kept teasing her clit, but only too soothe, cushioning her fall, until her breathing calmed, then kissed his way up her stomach and back into her arms.  
"Was that too much?"  
"No," she laughed, basking in afterglow.  
"You want more?"  
"Yes," she grinned, but it switched to a most adorable pout, when she felt him pull back.  
"Condoms," he grinned, and kissed the corner of her lips, unlocking her arms. "If you want to move to bed, now is your last chance."  
"Will you carry me?"  
"I'd rather not," he called from the bathroom.  
"Then get your ass back here."  
He rinsed his mouth and downed a glass of water, before filling it again, and bringing it back to her, to find her sitting on the couch, legs stretched out on the seat, crossed at the ankles, naked and disheveled, looking like a wet dream.  
"Thank you," she said, accepting the drink and took a sip, watching him reach to unzip his jeans.  
"Hold on," she said suddenly, and leaned over to set the glass on the coffee table.  
She dropped her feet to the floor and he was standing between her knees, towering over her and she smiled, looking from under her lashes, hands hovering an inch over his, "may I?"  
"Be my guest," he said and made room, feeling fingers slip between skin and denim, tugging and pushing.  
"Just so you know, you don't have to do this." He said, but then his pants dropped and she pulled on the waistband of his boxer briefs.  
"How old are you again?" She said, grinning wickedly.  
"Around you, I'm sixteen, be gentle."  
"I will," she said and wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, standing so hard and proud, that he glowed. "All this for me?" She mused, and licked the tip gently.  
"Yeah," he managed to choke then stopped, because her mouth closed and she was leaning forward and his head was about to explode. He panicked and took half a step back, "Wait, wait."  
Scully looked up and smiled, "too much?"  
"Too much," he said and she took his hand, pulling him back on the couch.  
"You got the condoms?"  
"Here," he gave her the packet, trying to calm his heartbeat. "You're staying, right?"  
"Yeah, now don't talk," she said and straddled his lap, "let me do this for you."  
And when she pulled him forward and claimed his mouth and cock, he didn't have to do nothing, but hold on and watch the stars unfold. 

They moved to the bedroom, to be more comfortable. Fire burned in the little fireplace, serving as music and light, and they were beyond teasing and banter, rollercoaster of a day taking its' toll.  
"You have a house, yet you live alone," she mused sleepily, voicing a stray thought.  
"I bought it of a friend, when he moved back to Oxford."  
"Oxford?"  
"I got my BA in England, but came back after a while, finished my Ph.D. here and stayed."  
"Why did you leave Oxford?"  
"There was a woman, I was young," he scratched her back lightly, the rhythm and his low voice, hypnotising. "I got in too deep and paid the price."  
"Were you ever married?"  
"Engaged, once," he sighed, "she left, two weeks before the wedding."  
"Why?"  
"Got a better offer."  
"I'm sorry," Scully said, pulling herself closer. How could anyone give up this was beyond her.  
"Don't be," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "it's ancient history."  
Scully turned on her side and he followed, keeping her wrapped in his arms.  
"I wanted a baby," she said after a long moment, "and he thought I can't do both, be a mother and a doctor."  
"He was clearly an idiot," Mulder said, if only half awake.  
"So, we had a huge fight about it and split up, and then I had Will, without him."  
"And now Will's at Harvard and you're a neurologist." He kissed her neck and pulled her closer. "Did I tell you you're awesome?"  
"No," she laughed and squirmed, his stubble scratching her skin.  
"Well you are, now try to sleep," he whispered, and relaxed around her. The weight of his arms, was as comforting as her own blankets.


	8. Chapter 8

Mulder woke up to music and the scent of coffee, remembering last night and grinning like a madman.  
"I died and went to heaven," he said to the ceiling and got up. Though his neck and shoulder echoed a little, life still felt pretty good.  
He pulled a clean tee and jeans from the chest of drawers and headed for the shower. Pans and plates from in the kitchen told him she wasn't going anywhere. 

Ten minutes later, he padded downstairs to see the living room straightened and Scully, by the stove in nothing but his yesterdays' t-shirt. Tips of her hair were wet and she swayed to Marley on the stereo. _'Is this love that I'm feeling'_ "From your mouth to God's ears, Bob," he thought.  
Trying to be as quiet as possible, Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in, moving with her as he kissed her cheek.  
"Good morning."  
"Hey, you sleep like a deadman," she breathed, leaning into him as he moved to her neck.  
"Rarely."  
Scully chuckled, squirming but not pulling back. "Do you ever shave?"  
"First Monday after full moon, otherwise no."  
"So I'm stuck with a lumberjack," she said then turned and saw his smile ready to land on her mouth.  
His lips were soft and his hand on her ass felt warm and she forgot the scratchy beard, bending backwards and holding on, because he was just so tall.  
"I'll shave, right now," he said, breaking the kiss, rocking her to the music. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down.  
"On second thought, I like my man rugged sometimes."  
"Yeah? Then how about." Mulder bent his knees and grabbed her waist.  
"No, wait!"  
Floor vanished from under her feet and she grabbed his shoulders for balance, laughing, and a second later she was sitting on the counter, next to buttermilk and flour, trapped between his arms.  
"Pancakes will burn," she warned.  
"No they won't," he said giving the pan a little stir and cranking down the burner. Then hands framing her cheeks, he kissed her for real, slow and sweet but building as she drew him in.  
"There's some frozen bagels in the freezer, if you want," he breathed finally, keeping his forehead pressed against hers.  
"Cream cheese?"  
"Obviously."  
"Didn't find any."  
"Has to be," he frowned and let go to rummage through the fridge, "I swear I bought it last time."  
Scully hopped off the table and turned the heat back up under the pan, while around her doors banged open and closed.  
"There you are! Fraternising with the mayo, huh?"  
She laughed and he was back, bumping her away from the stove.  
"These will need a minute," he said loading four bagels into the oven.  
"You're surprisingly apt in the kitchen."  
"Well, at some point, I told myself that it's time to stop living like a frat boy and start behaving like a man." He got up and pulled two mugs from the cupboard above the coffee machine. "What kind of man can't feed himself."  
"An average man."  
Mulder chuckled filling her mug then handed it to her. "Well, then I'm an alien."  
"You're a role model," she took the mug and watched him take a sip.  
"Damn, you make a fine cup of coffee," he grinned, pecked her cheek and went to get the paper. 

"So this is what you do," she said looking at the book in her hands.  
"It's a hobby."  
"Nine hundred pages, quite an extensive hobby, "I Want To Believe. A Psychologist's Take."  
"Yeah, it's kind of hard, to put it all in one book and still do the subject justice."  
"What is it about?"  
"People's stories mostly, self-proclaimed alien abductees, cryptozoologists, conspiracy theorists, your average outcast."  
"And the psychologist's take?"  
"I wanted to give these people some background, explain why they need to believe what they believe in, why the world dismisses and ridicules them, how it affects their lives and why they keep doing it anyway. Some of them are dreamers, some are scared for their lives and some went through things so bizarre that it's almost impossible to imagine, unless you're Steven Spielberg, on crack."  
"This is the book Will was raving about all summer."  
"Must have found a copy at the library."  
"Can I borrow it?"  
"Keep it, I've got a box of them in the basement."  
"I bet you give a copy to every girlfriend."  
"No," he chuckled, "not really."  
She folded herself beside him on the couch and he took the book from her, opening it on the fist page and signing it with a flourish before giving it back. Scully glanced at the inscription.  
"Hey, it says William, I thought it was for me."  
"You get the author," he smiled and pulled her legs over his lap, toppling them over, mouth on hers again.  
"I really should be going," she said a good while later, flushed and warm, tangled with him in the cramped space, again.  
"Will needs his mom," he agreed, doing absolutely nothing to let go.  
"My mom," Scully whined and hid her face in his chest. "She always goes to see him after church, and she'll be there today and nag me about the foundation thing."  
"What foundation thing."  
"She wants me to look for a donor through a foundation, and what she means by it, is that we should pay someone off and get Will bumped up the waiting list."  
"Is that even legal?"  
"No, but that's my mom for you, lie, cheat and steal for those she loves."  
"You blame her?"  
"No, but I don't want to think about it, unless I have absolutely no other choice."  
"Let me know if I can help."  
"You already helped," she mumbled into his tee, pulling him closer and his arms tightened around her, solid and undemanding.  
"You're easy to please."  
Scully laughed and made herself let go. "Okay, time to face the day."  
"You go girl." He said and sat up with her.  
He watched her gather her things, pull on her boots and stash the book in her bag.  
"The dish, hold on." He went to the kitchen and met her at the door.  
"Thank you for dinner, and breakfast," he said leaning in to kiss her gently, "and everything in between."  
"We should do it again sometime."  
"I have these papers to grade,"  
"And I have to face my mom and see my son,"  
"But tonight,"  
"Eight o'clock?"  
"Your place."  
"My place."  
"I'll bring food."  
"Good man." She smiled, climbing on tiptoes to kiss him one last time, at least for now.

She had a nice lunch with Will, who was thrilled about the book, stroking its' glossy sleeve and the UFO hovering above the trees on it.  
"It's sold out everywhere, how did you get it?"  
"Had to pull some strings."  
"I bet you did," Will grinned wickedly and pulled on the collar on her shirt, revealing a bright pink bruise on her skin.  
"You're too young to know about that." She said, feeling the blush creep in as she swatted his hand aside.  
"About what?" Will smiled and the smile changed before her eyes. She knew them all, grins and smirks and beams and pouts, but now, with that wicked glint in his eye.  
"It's signed!" He exclaimed, before she could pin the thought down.  
"C'mon, he's your professor."  
"I couldn't ask for an autograph, that's embarrassing."  
"Well, good thing your mother isn't as proud."  
"I have the best mom," he said in a sing-song voice, hugging her tight for a brief second. "Now leave me, I want to read this."  
"You're crazy," she laughed.  
"Yup," Will grinned and opened the book and began to read. 

Mulder showed up at 8, with a bag of Thai takeout and a six-pack of Shiner.  
"Damn, you're hot," she said, pulling him inside and straight into her arms, feeling him fumble with the bags and not giving a damn. "And you shaved," she grinned a moment later.  
"Well, you asked so nicely," he said and pulled her back in.  
"Okay, food first," she laughed surfacing and pushing him away, uselessly.  
"Hmmm, I dunno," Mulder mused, hands starting to roam.  
"You trust me?"  
"Yeah,"  
"Then food first."  
He sighed, keeping her in his arms. "Fine, how's Will?"  
"He's fine, loved the book."  
"Happy to hear that." He stole a kiss and only then let her go.  
"And he's totally onto us," she said, taking the bag from him.  
Mulder chuckled, shrugging out off his jacket and following her into the kitchen. "Smart kid."

"How did this happen?" Scully mused stretched out on Mulders' chest, stomach full and every fibre of her body relaxed.  
"What happened?"  
"I know that my life may fall apart, that my son is in a hospital, hooked up to an IV, fighting for his life," she said, laying down her head on his shoulder, "but you make it all bearable, for the first time in weeks, I don't feel like I'm drowning."  
"I live to serve," he whispered, stroking her hair. "You'll get through this, both of you."  
"Can you promise me that?"  
"No, but I can help you believe." He said, completely honest and it was exactly what she needed to hear.  
"Will you stay tonight?"  
"I've got class at 10."  
"And I need to be at the hospital around 9."  
"So, what are we going to do with all that time?"  
"We'll think of something," she said and puled herself up to reach his mouth.  
Her last thought was that, between him and Will, she might need a longer couch.

The next morning, Scully sat in her car, waving Mulder goodbye as he drove off, when her phone pinged with an email notification. 

From: W.Skinner@transplantation.bostongen.com  
To: D.Scully@neurology.bostongen.com  
Subject: URGENT good news  
Dr. Scully  
We need to talk. Meet me ASAP.  
Walter

She pulled out from the parking spot and all but stomped on the gas pedal.


	9. Chapter 9

Scully knocked on the office door and went in.   
Walter Skinner was a tall, respectful man, bald and bespectacled, with an air of a ranking officer, which he was actually, an army doctor who served three tours in Vietnam. People who came to his door found confidence and brusque reassurance. They probably wouldn't try to cry on his shoulder, but they would definitely be in good hands.   
"Tell me." She said, seeing her old friend look up from his coffee and the file in his hand. He took off his glasses and smiled at her.   
"I don't want to know whom you bribed, begged or fucked, but it worked."   
"What?"  
"We should have looked at the father from the beginning."  
"Will doesn’t have a father," she said sitting in a chair opposite him and Skinner raised one eyebrow, "I mean he does, obviously, somewhere. But I told you, I used donor sperm for the IVF."  
"You don't have to lie to me, Dana," he said, starting to look as confused as she felt, "I don't care."   
"What are you talking about, I didn't even think about looking for the guy."   
"You didn't? Because this last sample you brought," he glanced at the papers again, "Mulder, Fox W., is a match, so close that it could only be from a member of immediate family."  
Her heart started sucking all the blood back into her chest, in double time.   
"That’s impossible."  
"See for yourself," Skinner said and handed her two sheets of film.  
She took the slides to the light box, and pinned them side by side. The similarities were striking, even for her rusty genetics.  
"Oh my God.”   
“Nothing short of a miracle,” he said, standing behind her.  
“Can we use it?”  
“We need to do more thorough exams of the donor, of course, but if he checks out, he’s your best chance. It's best to act quickly, while Will still has strength to go through the chemo. We'll contact the guy, and if he agrees, schedule the appointments. If everything goes well, we can have him donate by Thursday. We'll start Will on preparations as soon as we have the results."  
She didn't hear half of what he said, staring at the blinding white light behind thick and thin bands of hard evidence.

Scully didn't know if she should laugh or cry or sing or curl up in a corner and wait for the second coming, but somehow she found her way back to her office. She took messages from the nurse at the nurses station and fumbled with them, looking for the key, when she heard her name called near by. Looking up, she saw a pair of smiling blue eyes.   
"Hi sis, I just dropped off some books for Will."   
"Charlie," she sighed and finally snapped out of it.  
"Something's wrong?" He asked, slowing down, "you look like you've seen a ghost."  
She barked out a laugh that had nothing to do with humour.   
"You have a moment? I need to talk to someone."   
"Sure," he said, radiating concern.   
He followed her inside and took off his coat, and sitting on the couch watched her bustle around the coffee maker.  
"Shit," she said finally, when the machine began to gurgle and sputter, "there's no easy way to say it, so I'm just gonna say it."  
"Okay."   
"Remember that guy I told you about?"  
"The Harvard guy?" Charlie said, ready to roll up his sleeves and go kick some ass.  
"He's William's dad."   
His jaw dropped to the floor. "What?"  
"He's his biological father, the semen I used for the IVF,"  
"Fuck, I know what it means, but how?"   
"He must have sold his sperm to the bank, guys do that."  
"Did you tell him?"  
"Not yet. I just found out."   
"Will you tell him?"  
Silence. She paced the office worrying her cuticles, while the coffee maker spat and bubbled and Charlie leaned over the coffee table, catching her hands on the next pass and pulling her onto the couch beside him.   
"Stop that, you'll hurt yourself," he said, keeping her hands in his. She held on, finally looking up, her eyes wide, terrified.   
"What do I do?"   
"Whatever it takes to keep Will safe." He said, squeezing her hands, "will he donate?"   
"First he needs to talk to Walter, his DNA matches, his blood work is clean, but history matters too."   
"Will Walter tell him about the father part?"   
"No, the DNA match is what's important, 7 in 10 recipients don't find donors inside their family, and there is a chance, however slim, that it's a coincidence."  
"How slim?"  
"One in five billion?" She said, not believing it one bit.  
"Okay, so he is Will's dad. Will he freak?"   
"I don't know," she sighed, getting up again, "he likes Will, and he volunteered for the test. But I was practically crying into his shoulder when he did, so he could've been trying to make me feel better."   
"I need to meet this guy, looks like I might have a new brother-in-law."   
"Don't mock, I had a rough month."   
"And you opened up to someone you barely know."  
"He's a psychologist, he had training."   
"Then I'll send him a bottle of scotch."   
She was coming back with the mugs, when she suddenly stopped. "Oh God."  
Panic in her voice made him drop the tease. "What?"  
"What if he says no?"   
"What if he says yes?" He said, leaning over to take the coffee from her, before she fed it to the carpet.  
"What if he says yes." She repeated, even more panicked. "How will I repay him?"   
"I don't think it's the kind of debt that you pay back."  
"He gave me a son, I can't ask for more."   
"You have no choice. Will, you're doing it for Will."   
"Charlie," she said, her voice smaller, "I like this guy. What if he freaks and runs?"  
"He won't."   
"But what if?"  
"Will you stop? You're starting to spiral."  
"I can't, how will I look him in the eye?" She kept going, her voice flat, "now that I know, how can I not tell him."   
Her face was going paler and paler and he couldn't stand it anymore, he puled her into a hug and held tight.   
"Calm down," he said softly, rubbing her back, "it will all work out."   
"It's too good to be true."   
"Look at it this way, you can finally tell mom she was wrong."   
"Oh no, mom!" She moaned and hid in his arms deeper, "you can't tell her. You know how she was, about this whole IVF deal."   
"Yeah, and look, turns out the guy really was great all along."   
"One in five billion."

Though they parted very amicably not more than a few hours ago, a voice inside him kept screaming 'go to her!' And life taught him to listen to these hunches.   
It wasn't nearly lunchtime yet, but Mulder figured, he might as well drop off the food early. What's the point of bringing lunch, if it's past lunch hour? He breezed by the nurses station and was walking down the hall, when doors to one of the offices opened and a young man came out, with Scully right behind him, her shoulders slumped in distress. The guy turned and pulled her into his arms, dropping a kiss on top of her head as she hugged him back. Mulder watched the scene unfold and his blood ran cold, his steps growing slow. Young, tall and handsome, curly red hair and horn-rimmed glasses, and definitely used to sharing her space. He paused ten feet from them and the guy looked up, catching his gaze, breaking the moment. Scully felt him shift and looked around as well, her eyes fell on him and she blushed.   
"Mulder," she said, trying to smile and hide some new fear in her eyes as she turned to the man. "Charlie, this is Fox Mulder, my,"   
She hesitated, and Mulder wasn't sure what hurt him more, the pause or the two seconds it took her to let go of the other man.  
"Hi," the guy smiled warmly, stepping back from her and reaching out to shake Mulders' hand, "Charlie Scully, Dana's brother."   
"Fox Mulder," Mulder smiled back, shaking and trying to shake off the foolish feeling, while trying to figure out what bothered Scully, all at the same time. "Is everything okay?"  
"Let's hope so," he said cryptically and turned back to his sister, leaning to kiss her forehead, "I'll leave you two to talk, call me later, 'kay?"   
Scully nodded and let go of his coat sleeve, and Charlie tuned to leave, but then paused again. "Oh, by the way, mom called, Missy's in town for Thanksgiving, roll call at dinner on Thursday."  
"We'll see," Scully sighed and he nodded at them both one last time before leaving.   
Mulder watched him go for a second then turned to Scully, forgetting lunch for a second. She didn't look up so he stepped closer, taking her brother's place and brushed her arm with the back of his hand.  
"Hey, what is it?" She managed a glance at him, but it didn't last, her eyes were wet again. "Can't talk about it?" She shook her head, and her shoulders shuddered when she took a deep breath.   
"Come by, when you’re finished," he said quietly, rubbing her arm gently, "I’ll make dinner and…"   
That seemed to cheer her up a bit.   
"You?" She smiled, a little more real this time, sparing a glance at the paper bag in his hand.  
"Yeah, you’ve fed me for two days, I'm still one day behind," he said, "we'll eat and talk and see if we can make it alright, whatever it is."   
And as he spoke, he watched her transform, puling up walls around her fragile self and putting her game face on.   
"You'll get a call from the transplantation institute," she said quietly, "they'll want to talk to you."   
"Is this what this is about?"   
Scully nodded, dropping her gaze, and it all fell into place.  
"Hey, c'mere," he said, relieved, and puled her into his arms, hugging her tight and feeling her arms sneak under his coat. "I won't bail on your son." He whispered and she hugged him tighter, "he'll get through this."   
"You think so?"  
"I know so," he said, just for her. "If he has even a fraction of your strength, he'll be okay."


	10. Chapter 10

The day rushed by, as Scully drowned the uneasiness in workload, grateful that she was still able to focus on her patients' problems instead of her own.   
Mulder texted her around 5pm, saying he was done with the tests and that his invitation still stands, and she realised, that somewhere between exams and paperwork, the thought of facing him again, didn't paralyse her anymore. She still didn't know how to tell him about Will, or had any idea how he might take the news, but the truth settled in.   
Charlie was right, he really was a great guy after all. If she ever wanted a father for Will, Mulder would pretty much fit the bill, smart, funny, kind and as far as she could tell, steadfast. He would be the kind of dad who never forgot to pick him up from school, was there for the baseball games and swimming tournaments. She could see herself sharing couch with them on Saturday evenings, eating popcorn and watching macho-movies. Though it was dangerous to hope, if fate allowed she might still have that. 

She went to see Will at the end of her day, pausing by the door to watch him for a second through the window. He was reading, curled up on his side, earbuds in, completely enthralled, and now when she knew, she couldn't help but notice the similarities. The chestnut mane, the tall and lean frame, high cheekbones, and finally, definitely, undeniably, Mulders' mouth. That pout that usually got him his way, the smile that brightened her day, is was Mulder all over again.   
Will must've felt her gaze because he glanced up from his book and smiled, sitting up. He looked pale and tired, but his eyes were bright.  
"Why are you staring at me?" He asked, when she came in and dropped a kiss on top of his head.   
"I just got here, you must've sensed me coming."   
"Spooky," he grinned and scooted over, letting her sit beside him.   
"What are you reading?"   
"Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy," he said, closing the book to show her the cover, "uncle Charlie brought it."   
"And the t-shirt?"   
"Aunt Missy," he grinned pulling at the hem of his new PJ's, on it, planes were chasing UFO's around the world, the words Foo Fighters written across the front, "she remembered the UFO's, but Emily said, she didn't have the heart to tell her it's a band."   
"Be glad it's not a tie-dye," Scully laughed.  
"Yeah, aunt Melissa, the last hippy on earth."   
"Will," she nudged him lightly making him laugh, and it was the warm honey sound she loved most.   
"Mom?"   
"Yes honey?"   
"Doctor Skinner was here to see me, too."  
"You had a busy day," she said, keeping her voice light.   
"Does that mean, he found someone?"   
"I don't know," she said, kissing his temple, "these things take time."   
"Because I wouldn't mind getting out of here."   
"And I wouldn't mind taking you home, either."   
A knock made them both look up and a second later, a young girl came in, her red hair cut short almost like a boy's, piercings catching the light from the fluorescents overhead.   
"Emily!"   
"Hi, aunt Dana," she said, kissing Scully's cheek before ruffling Will's hair, "told you I'd come back."   
"You got it?" Will perked up.  
"Yup," she plopped across the foot off his bed, dropping a small box between them.   
"Cards?" Scully laughed, letting go off Will, who reached for the deck and immediately started shuffling.   
"There's only so much TV I can stand."   
"Why didn't you tell me."  
"Haven't thought of it until I saw this one here," he chuckled, jerking his chin at Emily.  
"Right, because I'm known for bringing up base instincts in men."   
Scully felt slightly uncomfortable, Em was 24, but in her eyes, she was still that teenage girl who watched cartoons sitting on the floor with her son.  
"How's Palo Alto, Em?"  
"Dry, I miss Boston," she sighed picking up her cards, "and this little one."   
"If you didn't give up that scholarship at MIT and sell out to the blue chips," Will said.  
"I wouldn't have that house with a pool I just sold, to move back here."  
Will's ears went up so fast he almost jumped. "You're coming back?"   
"Yup," she grinned and he threw himself at her, both of them laughing. Emily held him tight and Scully heard her tone change, "so now you have to get better, you hear me?"   
"Yup," William said, letting go off his childhood best friend.  
"What does your mom think about this?" Scully asked, proud of her brilliant punk niece.  
"She's not thrilled," Emily sighed a little sad, but then smiled at them both, "but that's what I want to do, so it's happening."   
"Well, if you need a place to stay in the mean time."  
"Thanks," she smiled brighter, fixing the sheets Will kicked over, "I'll come to you when Charlie grows tired of me."   
"Or his next girlfriend shows up." Will said, then picked up his cards.   
Scully played three hands with them then kissed the kids goodnight.

A nurse came by with Will's meds and took a few notes on his chart, while Emily paced the room, noticing the pile of books on his nightstand.   
"Visiting hours end in one hour," she reminded and left, and Em was back, sprawled at the foot of Will's bed.   
"What's this?" She said, showing him one of the books, the one with the UFO on the cover.   
"Extra reading for my psychology class."   
"It's signed."   
"Yeah, the guy's my professor and he kind of dates mom."  
"Why kind of?" She asked, looking at the photo on the back.   
"You know, not like Charlie dates girls, takes them out a few times and you know they'll disappear, mom and Mulder, I think they're past that."   
"You don't like it?"   
"It felt weird at first, but then I saw her coming home from seeing him and wow, I don't think I ever saw her that happy."   
"Really."   
"She doesn't hum show tunes to anything, she just sort of, glows."   
"Hmm, she didn't seem glowing to me."   
"That's because you didn't see her a week ago, heck, last Thursday even, I'm telling you, that guy is different."   
"He is cute, and," she held up the book, looking first at the picture then at Will, then at the picture again, "he sort of looks like you."   
"What?"   
"I mean, if you skip the eyes and the nose," she covered half of the picture with her hand and glanced at Will again, "yeah, definitely."   
"I don't think that's why she likes him."   
"No, I think it's the glowing part," Emily said, wiggling her eyebrows and Will gaged.   
"Ugh, let's not talk about my mom and that."   
"Why?" She laughed, stretching out like a cat, and if he didn't know his cousin since before she had tits, he'd find the sight very attractive. "Let me give you a piece of advice, you want to keep a girl, be that guy, one who makes her glow."   
"That's it? Sex? What about connection, shared views and mutual trust?"   
"That's when you're looking for a friend, and believe me, it's even rarer than great sex."   
"Well, I'll have it both." Will sighed, shuffling the cards, looking a little embarrassed and she covered his hands with hers.  
"You will," she said without teasing, "you just have to get out of here." 

Mulder decided on the epitome of comfort food, chicken casserole, but the longer they sat at the table, in the warm light of his kitchen, the stronger was the sense, that something bad was about to happen.   
Scully kept smiling letting him fill silence with chatter, but her eyes were unusually present, fixed on his face as if she was looking at him for the last time, determined to learn his face, before she told him goodbye. Fear, uneasiness, long silences, he could understand, but at the same time, he itched to touch her, just to make sure she wouldn't push him away.   
They moved to the couch after dinner and when she folded herself against his side, the relief was instantaneous.   
"The dean wasn't too pleased when I asked for the week off," Mulder said, drawing her closer. "But Skinner said I should avoid public places, so I wouldn't pick up any infection, in case the tests came back positive."   
"Walter knows what he's doing, you're both in good hands."   
"You haven't told Will yet?"   
"No, I don't want to scare him," she said, taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his, "he keeps joking and teasing, but I know it's an act."   
"That's him, being your son," he said, kissing her temple, "you're both so careful not to show weakness."   
"You say it like it's a bad thing," she sighed.   
"There's time and place for everything, and Will knows what he's up against, there's just nothing he can do about it, and goofing off is his defence mechanism. I think he's scared just like everyone else."   
"Why are you doing this?" She asked quietly, stroking the back of his hand. "Why help us?"   
"Because I can," he said simply. "Because you got dealt this shitty hand and I wouldn't be able to live with myself, if I just stood idly watching a great kid fade away, while his mother fought the fight alone, for both of them. Even thinking about it makes me wanna kick my own ass."   
"So you feed me and fuck me and let me stick a needle in your butt," she said, turning in his arms, and cupping his cheek, drawing his lips down, "because you can."   
"There's no endgame for me here," he smiled, feeling her warm breath, "you might as well ask me why I breathe."   
"Why do you breathe?"   
"So I we can keep having these talks, apparently," he said and let her kiss him, because that was what she needed from him. 

They moved slowly, bodies wrapped around each other, arms and legs and mouths drawing lines. In the dim light he held her gaze, luminous blue beneath delicate skin and lashes, with every stroke bringing her higher and away from her problems. A moment of release was all he could offer, but he made damn sure, the moment was worth it. Her eyes locked on his, lips parted, heart pounding, his, hers, he didn't know anymore, didn't care. She bit her lip, he caught it, freed it, soothed it.   
"Don't hold, back, let me, do this."   
"Thank you."   
"What for?"  
"Everything," she breathed, raking his back, drawing him in.  
"Shhhh," he kissed her neck, lips against her ear, "don't thank me, feel me."   
And for a time, that was all she did. 

Scully woke up sometime past midnight to moonlight filtering through a crack in the blinds. The light cast a blue glow over his face, drawing the story of his life in a secret language of lines and cracks. How would they look like, if she was there to watch them grow, would there be less of them, or more? How many cracks formed, because there was no one to hold him, which lines were ruts, carved by the same old jokes. She touched his cheek and he shifted, arm falling around her without thinking.   
"I hope you'll forgive me," she whispered, brushing his lips lightly and the arm tightened around her, drawing her in.


	11. Chapter 11

They woke up together, early, because she needed to stop by her place to change for the day.  
"There's a new toothbrush in the cabinet," he grinned, kissing her good morning and earning a poke under the rib, laughing.  
"Good, you should use it sometimes," she said, and sat up, stretching arms over her head. "I should bring something to sleep in next time."  
Mulder grinned and ran one hand down her bare back. "I'm not complaining."  
"Something silk and short, you'd love it."  
"More than what you're wearing now? I doubt it."  
"Flatterer," she teased and went for the bathroom, wearing nothing and wearing it well. 

Ten minutes later she was downstairs, taking the coffee he offered. They stood next to each other, leaning against the counter, she in her yesterday's business casual, he in loose swats and a t-shirt, scratching his cheek. The day settling in.  
"What time do you think they'll have the results."  
"Sometime before lunch," she said, "they'll call."  
"I can't imagine you did this for weeks."  
"What?"  
"Waiting, it's killing me." He said, but then checked himself, "bad joke, sorry."  
"Transplant ward humour," she smiled, bumping his shoulder, "you're a natural."  
"Type 0 negative, take what you want."  
"More dad jokes?"  
"As long they are not dead jokes."  
"You're hilarious," she deadpanned making him laugh, for real this time. "I have to go, thanks for the toothbrush."  
She put the mug in the sink and as she looked up, he touched her chin, bringing her lips to his, kissing them softly.  
"What's that for?"  
"Luck," he said and kissed her again.  
He got the call around noon. 

Scully stood a few feet from the door to Will's room, waiting for Walter to be done talking to the head nurse, realising, she was biting her nails.  
"You're a mess," she told herself under her breath, trying to calm her heart and conjure some leftover confidence.  
"Shall we?" Walter said and together they went in.  
"Will," she greeted him, crossing the room as he looked up from the book he was reading. He smiled, if faintly, his eyes fixed on the man behind her.  
"Hi mom," he said and nodded, "Sir."  
"How are you doing Will," Skinner asked, shaking his hand.  
"Not too bad," Will said, closing the book. "Mom? What's going on."  
"We found a donor." She said, moving straight to the point.  
"Yes," Skinner nodded, standing by the foot of his bed. "And since you're legally an adult, we need your consent to start with the treatment."  
"You got a pen?" Will said, turning pale but sitting straight. "It's not like I have much choice."  
"You always have a choice," Skinner said, resting his hands on the footboard.  
"Hear him out, Will." Scully said, putting her arm around him.  
"I'm obligated to explain to you the procedure, before you sign anything, so listen carefully." Will nodded. "Before we get you better, we will have to make you worse, a lot worse."  
"Chemo, I know."  
"You have to understand, we have to wipe out your immune system and destroy your own bone marrow, to get you ready for the donor cells. It won't be pretty, you will have to go through a very aggressive regimen of chemotherapy, during which you will remain in isolation to limit any risk of infection."  
"How long that will take?"  
"About two days, it will hurt like hell and there might be complications."  
"What then."  
"While you go through the preparations, we will take marrow from the donor and store it, until you are ready for transplant."  
"Then?"  
"Then once you're ready, you’ll receive the new, healthy marrow, and then we wait."  
"How will that look like?"  
"Like a blood transfusion, the cells are transferred into your bloodstream and through that, settle in your bones, where they'll hopefully stay and start to grow, rebuilding your blood and immune system, while you remain in observation."  
"And how long that might be?"  
"Usually around 100 days," Skinner said, "during that time we will monitor your condition, watching blood cell counts and keep an eye out for any signs of graft rejection."  
"So we're looking at three months."  
"At the hospital, after that, you will remain under supervision, but hopefully on an out-patient basis."  
"Alright, when do we start?"  
"As soon as we get you transferred to isolation."  
"Don't worry," Scully said, drawing him closer, "I'll be as close to you as I can."  
"I know you will." He said, leaning a little into her. "Okay, where do I sign?"  
"Here are the forms," Skinner said, handing him a stack of papers with a pen. "I'll leave you for a moment, I have to talk to the nurses."  
"Thanks." Will said and started scribbling his name on dotted lines, his hand shaking a little.  
He was almost done with the paperwork when he spoke again, careful not to look up. "Mom?"  
"Yes?"  
"Who is it?" He asked quietly, "The donor, anyone we know?"  
Scully took a deep breath, finding her voice, then whispered. "It's Mulder."  
Will nodded, writing his name one last time with a flourish. 

He answered the phone on third ring.  
"Mulder."  
"Hey, it's me." Her voice on the other end sounded small.  
"How is he?"  
"It's bad, the things he went through so far, are nothing compared to this."  
"It's necessary."  
"I know," she sighed, "but it doesn't make it any easier."  
"You'll stay with him all night?"  
"I need to, I can't leave him."  
"Of course, but try to get some sleep, for me, please?"  
"I'll try, and how are you doing?"  
"Nervous," he said, closing his eyes, "it's not like I'll be peeing into a plastic cup."  
She huffed out quarter of a laugh. "No, it's not,"  
"Good to know there's still one laughing bone left in you intact," he teased softly, "you'll be okay. Both of you will."  
"You want me to take you home after?"  
"No, you don't have to."  
"Someone should keep an eye on you,"  
Mulder laughed, warmed by her concern. "Scully, baby, you can't be in all places at once, and right now, Will needs you more than I do."  
"But it's the least I can do."  
"I talked to some friends, they'll come pick me up."  
"But,"  
"Relax, I'll be alright. When do you think they will,"  
"Thursday, if there's no complications."  
"Thanksgiving," Mulder said.  
"Yeah, let's hope we'll have something to be thankful for." Silence stretched, humming with anxiety.  
"Does he know it's me?" Mulder asked finally and Scully sighed, he could almost hear her shoulders slump.  
"Yes," she said, "I'm sorry, he asked."  
"No, it's okay," Mulder said gently, "he would've figured it out, eventually."  
Someone said something in the background and Scully said she'll be right with them.  
"I have to go," she said to the phone, "they're starting Will on another round."  
"Sure, go, we'll talk tomorrow."  
"Wait, what time is it?"  
"Almost eleven, go, be with your kid."  
"Mulder?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I," she choked on words and pain in her voice tore at his heart some more.  
"I know, go," he said and hung up. 

The ballpark was full, Fenway Park packed to capacity with red, white and blue. Heavy clouds gathered in the east, threatening to dump their load and end the game before the Red Sox had any chance at fighting back. The score was tied and the tall, chestnut haired kid in the field already earned two strikes. Opposite him stood a giant, clad in Yankee midnight blue, his face merciless like the face of baseball God. Mulder watched the boy fix his grip on the bat.  
"Remember," he muttered under his voice, "hips before hands…"  
The ball flew, the boy swung the bat…  
"How are we doing, mr Mulder?" Boomed a voice, yanking him out of the dream and blowing it away in seconds, while reality rushed in. The sky outside looked painted with red and orange, sun finally peeking through to say goodnight. A tall, bald doctor was walking in, the one who was in charge of the procedure. Skinner was the name, Mulder remembered, gathering himself to sit up.  
"I had worse," he said while the mans' hands were on him, businesslike but not callous, checking pulse and bandages. He looked through Mulders' chart and satisfied, started making notes on some new papers he brought.  
"Well, you look fine enough to go home for the rest of the day. Most of the side effects should be gone by the end of the week," Skinner said, signing the release form, "but it can take up to a month for you to completely recover, so my advice is to try to take it easy."  
"I will," Mulder said and shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you."  
"No, Mr Mulder, thank you. You quite possibly saved a young mans' life, and my friends' son, I'm truly grateful."  
"He's a great kid."  
"He sure is." Skinner smiled and left the room.  
The tv hummed in the background and Mulder glanced at the clothes laid out on the bed. His back ached and the thought of pulling on pants filled him with dread, but he bit the bullet and, perched on the edge of the mattress, gingerly started to dress.  
"I can do this," he said to himself, moving at a glacial pace when a voice came from the doorway.  
"We volunteer to pick you up and this is what we get in return?"  
Mulder sighed and looked at the two men standing in the doorway. Both of them were around his age, but as he aged with grace and dignity, they looked basically as they did the day they met. Basements of MIT held some pretty interesting relics.  
"Stop passing judgment," he said to the tall one, "it's like Arctic in here."  
"No it's not," the man replied and walked in.  
"You sure you're okay to go home?" Asked the shorter one, pushing a wheelchair in front of him.  
"Frohike, get that thing away from me."  
"Hospital policy," the tall one grinned, adding, "old man."  
"Blow me, Langly," Mulder said, pulling himself to his feet, but then he hissed and wobbled. Langly caught him and helped him into the chair.  
"Easy."  
"Thanks."  
Frohike took the bag and the jacket from the bed and glanced around the room. "You had anything else with you?"  
"No," Mulder said, trying to control his breathing while his stomach auditioned for Cirque du Soleil.  
"Hey, you sure you okay?"  
"Yeah," he swallowed hard and finally looked up. "I'm just worried, I can do that at home as well."  
"If you say so." Frohike said pulling the doors open and Langly pushed the chair, with Mulder in it, towards the elevators and the parking lot.

The Gunmen didn't try to pull him into their conversation, letting him rest, while Byers pitched his patience against late afternoon traffic. They took him straight home, arguing from where to order the pizza, and what should be on top. They made the call from the car to save time.  
Mulder managed the steps to his front door and headed straight for the couch, pulling the blanket over himself, barely any strength left to toe off his sneakers.  
"Did you talk to the good doctor today?"  
"Yeah, she called this morning."  
"Called." Langly said, dubious.  
"She's with her son, no point in her going in and out of quarantine zone just to talk."  
"Well," he began, but then thought better of it. "You're right."  
"Here are your meds," Byers said, putting a glass of water next to the bag on the coffee table. "You should take them after dinner."  
The doorbell rang and Langly went to get it, his wallet out to pay for the delivery.  
Mulder ate one slice, without getting up, took the pills and watched the game on tv, which someone had turned on. Low conversation hummed around him, comfortable, familiar, and completely undemanding. It was one of the little things he was grateful for most, having people he could count on without worrying about returning the favour.  
Food, meds and being home helped a lot, but his mind kept drifting to Scully, her nervous hands he wished he could hold, her tense shoulders he would gather under his arm. His brave, strong Scully, fighting for her son. Mulder's prayers were short and to the point, since he wasn't even sure, if there was an all-powerful God. He didn't need much from the one above, or below, or around for that matter, if one wanted to be fair to all, nothing more than not making them stand over a hole in the ground, because that hole would forever stay open in their hearts.  
He didn't watch the game end, or notice the boys look at him then at each other. The question that hung unspoken, finally ripened enough to be voiced.  
"Why do you do it?" Frohike said from the chair by the fireplace and Mulder sighed, pulling the blankets a little closer around himself.  
"If I ever had a kid," he said quietly, "I hope there would be someone, who would do the same for him."  
His friends looked at him for a long moment, expressions gradually softening, while they accepted the answer as true to Mulders' nature as they might ever expect.  
"Well, let's hope it works." Frohike said and smiled warmly.  
"Yeah, let's." Mulder relied and watched them get up to leave.  
"Take it easy," said Byers, shrugging into his long coat, "and call if you need anything."  
"Thanks."  
"Anytime man." Langly said, and zipped up his leather jacket.  
Frohike patted his shoulder and they left, leaving Mulder with his fears and aches.  
His part was done, now all he could do was wait.


	12. Chapter 12

The food looked and smelled as delicious as always, but when Charlie took his place at the table, looking around the faces gathered there, it all felt wrong, he didn't feel grateful at all. Dana and Will's absence gaped like a black hole, a fearful reminder sucking up all cheer.  
Even young Mathew kept his head down, bending under pressure of being the only child present. Him, Bill and Tara, lived their lives in California where Bill was stationed, making them rare guests at the table. That however didn't stop the eldest Scully son from taking place of honour and carving the turkey. After short and meaningless grace, he started handing out thick slices, leaving the best and most tender for himself.  
"Dana isn't coming?" He asked, finally sitting down.  
"She's at the hospital," Maggie said, "with Will."  
Charlie noticed disproval on his brother's face and glared, ready for the sermon, Bill Jr. was about to deliver.  
"I always knew that pride would be her fall." He said apropos of nothing, around a mouthful of turkey. "Like you said mom, back in the day, IVF was for people who can't have kids, not to satisfy her whims, and now God is making her see it." He stuffed his face while others looked at him in disbelief. "She should accept his will, letting the boy spend last days with his family and not keep poking and prodding him, if it was clearly never meant to be."  
Bill loaded his fork with stuffing and peas and Charlie snapped, pushing his chair back so hard it almost fell back. His fists were clenched, knuckles white, but he said nothing. Instead he rounded the table and took Bill's mostly full plate away from him.  
"What the hell!"  
"Shut up Bill," he said, "just shut up."  
"What do you think you're doing?" Bill yelled, while the rest of the family sat frozen in their places.  
"I'm taking this to Dana," Charlie said not bothering to stop, his voice thick with rage. "She needs this more than you do."  
"Charles, please." Maggie said, finally finding her voice among tears and shame.  
"No, mom, I'm not sharing table with him, not tonight." He said and went to the kitchen.  
Doors and drawers began slamming and Emily got up, taking her plate with her. "I'm going with him."  
"Emily, don't." Missy said with a hint of plea and warning.  
"Don't what? Tolerate this kind of talk?"  
Emily looked at her mother, cold fury burning behind her blue eyes, then around the table, at all the food and family, growing colder by the second. Charlie came back with boxes, handing one to her, and they began loading them up with turkey, mashed potatoes, salads and stuffing, while the rest watched in stunned silence for a few excruciatingly long minutes.  
"I'll get you the pie," Maggie said, finally getting up and wiping tears from her eyes.  
"Thanks mom." Charlie said, and started loading another box.  
"Now listen, Charles," Bill tried to get up, but Tara caught the sleeve go his jacket and pulled him down.  
By the time Maggie was back, they had all four boxes filled and packed, along with their own plates. Somewhere in the middle, Missy and Tara began to help, while Bill sat with his arms crossed, in stubborn silence.  
"I should go with you," Maggie said, walking Charlie and Emily to the door.  
"No point, they won't let all of us through the quarantine zone."  
"Right, right," she sighed, resigned, and Charlie let go of some of his rage, putting his arm around her.  
"I'll call you once I know how Will is doing, okay?"  
"Thank you, give them my best."  
"Will do," Charlie said and followed Emily out. 

They did the best they could to blow out his spark, reducing him to a tiny blue flame, a tea-light with one last drop of paraffin keeping it alive. She held his hand, stroking its' back with her thumb, while life trickled down the line, back into his veins. She should have asked Mulder about that vampire joke.  
"Why does Mulder call you Scully?" Will spoke suddenly, his voice barely audible, head turning on the pillow with tremendous effort.  
"It's an FBI thing." She said and his brow furrowed. "He did some consulting for the bureau in the 90's and it turned into a habit. I don't mind really. Do you?"  
Will's head twitched sideways.  
"Rest honey," Scully said, pressing her lips to his hand, ignoring the sterile mask, "save your strength."  
Her phone chirped in its' ziplock bag and she glanced anxiously at the ID. It was her second favourite caller.  
"Hi sis," said a cheerful voice, "come out for a minute, we brought you something."  
Scully looked up and through the glass to the corridor beyond, and saw Charlie and Emily waving at her just outside the airlock doors.  
"I'll be right with you." She said and hung up.  
"Who is it?" Will mumbled half awake.  
"Charlie and Em are here," she said, patting his hand and he opened his eyes, managing a faint smile. He lifted his head and waved at the couple outside. Emily grinned and made a face, crossing eyes and sticking out her tongue and Will smiled back, a little wider this time.  
"Tell them hi," he said and fell back down.  
"I'll be right back." 

"Hi," Scully grinned, hugging her brother and niece, "did mom send you?""We sent ourselves," Emily said, handing her a paper bag, "but grandma cooked."  
"We figured you could use some real food."  
"Thanks," she said, opening the box, "how bad was the dinner?"  
"I hate Bill," Emily said, staying by the window, her eyes never leaving Will.  
"He's been a royal asshole."  
"Charlie."  
"Good thing you weren't there to hear it."  
"That bad?" She looked up from her cold turkey, fork half way up to her mouth.  
"I wanted to kill him," Charlie said, gritting his teeth, "self-righteous prick. You know, sometimes I think he's been switched in his crib and he's some kind of half-troll changeling."  
"His neck is short enough for it," Emily said, grin in her voice.  
"You're both so mean," Scully said, but smiled as well. Mocking Bill behind his back was a long-standing tradition of theirs.  
"How's Will doing?" Charlie asked.  
"He got the marrow around 3pm, so now we wait. He's stable, no sign of immediate rejection."  
"That's good, right?"  
"It's too soon to tell, but it's definitely not bad."  
"When will we be able to see him?"  
"Give it a couple of days, it will all depend on his progress."  
"I hate waiting." Emily said.  
"I know Em," Scully said and got up, standing by the window with her arm around her, "I'll make sure he calls you, once he's lucid enough."  
"Okay," Em nodded, locking her eyes with Will, and putting her hand to the glass. She never saw him this fragile, even when he was a child and she filled her with dread.  
"We'll let you go back to him," Charlie said, joining them, "unless you want to feed him turkey as well."  
"Can't, hospital food only."  
"Rain check then, you need anything else?"  
"No, I think I'm good now," she said, feeling a little more human.  
Few days ago she wouldn't be able to swallow home cooking without bursting into tears, but she ate it all and talked to her family and finally had a feeling, that life would go back to normal.  
"You know," she said remembering the calls she made earlier, "I tried to reach Mulder but he didn't answer, could you?"  
"Sure," Charlie said, "just give me the address."  
"Thanks." 

Mulder slept through the day. His aching back chained him to the couch, making anything beyond a bathroom trip, not worth the pain or the nausea. He ate toast for breakfast and canned soup for lunch, and slept with the tv on low for background. It was easier to handle the stress that way. If the transplant wouldn't work and the kid forfeited his life, the pain Scully would feel was impossible for him to imagine.  
So when the doorbell rang somewhere around seven, his heart began to pound, filling his head with worst images possible. He forced himself to get up, bracing for tears, fists and knives in his heart, then turned the lock and his jaw dropped.  
"Good evening," said Charlie Scully, accompanied by willowy, short-haired girl, who looked like something between him and Scully.  
"It's too soon for carolling," Mulder said, trying to read the news from their faces.  
"We're the Thanksgiving committee." The girl grinned and relief washed over him, making his knees weak.  
"Easy man, Will's okay," Charlie said catching him and stepping through the threshold, guiding Mulder back to the couch. The girl closed the doors behind them from the inside.  
"They did it?"  
"Yeah, this afternoon, he's sleeping it off." Charlie eased Mulder to the seat, lifting his face up for a second, glancing at his eyes and checking pulse. "You feel dizzy? Faint?"  
"You a doctor too?"  
"No, but I had first aid training."  
"EMT?"  
"Cop," Charlie smiled, and moved back. "This is my niece, Emily."  
"Hi," Emily said, smiling.  
Mulder looked at the girl, who looked like a punk who raided Scully's closet for her business casual. She showed him the paper bag.  
"We brought dinner."  
Mulder laughed and leaned back. "Sure you did."  
"May I?" Emily asked and nodded towards the kitchen.  
"Go ahead."  
"We brought more, mind if we join you?"  
"Not at all." Mulder said and looked at Charlie again. "How's Scully,"  
"We fed her too, don't worry, she asked us to come check up on you, said you didn't return her calls."  
"She called?" Mulder picked up his phone from the coffee table and found three unanswered calls and the switch on the side set on mute. "Frohike must have turned it off so no one would wake me. Excuse me."  
"Sure, I'll go help Emily." 

Scully picked up on the fourth ring.  
"Hi."  
"Hi, it's me, sorry I didn't call back, a bee stung me, had to sleep it off."  
She laughed. "It's okay, how are you feeling?"  
"Weak and aching, but I'll live. Will's better?"  
"He's not worse." She said cautiously.  
"Afraid you'll jinx it?"  
"Something like that. Charlie’s there?"  
"Yeah, I guess feeding people runs in the family."  
"We're old fashioned, if we feed you, you're part of the family."  
"In that case, I'll have seconds."  
"Knowing my brother, you'll have enough for it and probably lunch tomorrow."  
"We'll see, smells good." Mulder paused, then added softly. "You're not bailing on me, are you?"  
"Wouldn't dream of it," she said and the warmth in her tone was all the assurance he needed.  
Someone tapped his shoulder and he looked up to see Emily. "Dinner's ready."  
"Thanks," he said to the girl, then to the phone. "Food's here, wanna know what I'm thankful for?"  
"You'll tell me when I see you."  
"Why?"  
"Because I want to tell you too, in person."  
"Then, I'll see you."  
"Take care of yourself."  
"Ha, I've got people for that now."  
"Right, go eat, we'll talk later."  
"Bye."  
Mulder hung up and dragged himself off the couch.  
“Who wants to say grace?” Asked Charlie, reaching hands across the table, palms up.  
“I’m half jewish,” Mulder said, but took Emily’s hand.  
“No problem,” Charlie grinned and closed the circle, pausing, before he began speaking in a low voice.  
“We’re thankful for this year, with all its’ graces and trials, ones we've overcome and the ones we’re still facing. We’re thankful for our family and friends, old and new, and all the kindness we received, hoping that we can be there for them too, in time of need.” Both hands tightened around Mulder’s fingers and when he looked up, he couldn’t speak.  
“Amen,” said Emily, smiling at him.  
“Amen,” Charlie echoed and Mulder nodded, touched to his core.  
“We should have brought some gravy,” Emily said, breaking the moment as she reached for potatoes. “I’m hungry.”  
“There’s wine,” Mulder said, clearing his throat, “I shouldn’t, but you’re welcome to it.”  
“Got beer?” Charlie asked.  
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “there’s beer too.”  
“Perfect.”  
“I’ll have one too.”  
Mulder stared to get up, but Charlie stopped him. “Fridge?”  
He nodded and Charlie retrieved two bottles and glasses from the cupboard.  
“Glass, classy,” Emily grinned.  
“It’s Thanksgiving, you can behave like a human for one evening.”  
“Do I have to?” She looked at Mulder and hit him with a pout that would befit a five year-old, if it wasn’t for all the piercing. He couldn’t stop the laugh.  
“You brought food, do what you want.”  
“Thank you!” She sang and took the bottle from Charlie, who too, gladly skipped the glass.  
“Less dishes,” he chuckled and sat back down.  
“Try the turkey,” Emily told Mulder, “it’s the only reason I dress up for grandmas’ dinners.”  
“I had your aunts’ lasagna, was that where Scully learned to cook?”  
“Mostly,” Charlie said, finally tasting the turkey. Even reheated, it was great. "Don’t get your hopes too high though, lasagna is her specialty, watch out for the meatloaf.”  
“Okay.”  
“I like Dana’s meatloaf," said Emily.  
“Because you’re still practically a student, if it’s free, you’ll eat anything.”  
“It’s not a money thing, I work too much,” she bristled, “I get distracted, and things just...”  
“Burn.” Charlie finished for her.  
“Is that a challenge?”  
“Yup, when you’re staying with me, you cook once a week.”  
“Sure,” she said, unfazed.  
“But if you burn it, it doesn’t count.”  
“Fine.” She mixed the potatoes with stuffing, her interest fading.  
“And it can’t be takeout,” Charlie insisted.  
“I said fine!” Emily mumbled around mouthful of turkey.  
“Mulder heard you, so you can’t back out” Charlie grinned, then turning to Mulder said in a stage whisper, “I’m joking, she only burned one pie.”  
“And I’ll never live it down.” Emily said, taking a swig from her bottle to wash down the food.  
“So what do you do Emily?” Mulder asked, changing subject politely.  
“I’m a programer," she replied, before taking another bite, "I spent some time in Silicon Valley, but I’m moving back here, to finish my thesis at MIT.”  
“I have friends there, what's the thesis about?”  
“Statistical analysis of data shared through social media and potential applications. But let's not talk about work, or at least not my work, Charlie catching bad guys is so much more interesting."  
"Yeah, like I can ever talk about it." He chuckled, deflecting, "Mulder, Will showed me your book."  
"He did?"  
"You wrote about this former FBI guy, who though he was abducted by aliens."  
"Duane Barry, yes."  
"Any truth to that? He was injured in the line of duty, wasn't that just the brain damage talking?"  
"He did have pieces of metal in various places inside his body."  
"So you believed him?"  
"Every story of alien abduction is different, touching different people, coming from different backgrounds. Some accept it, feeling chosen, and some break under the pressure of constantly looking over their shoulder. Ask yourself, why would you make up a story, that would make everyone think you've gone crazy?"  
"Attention?" Emily asked, sipping her beer.  
"It's usually negative, where's the pay off?"  
"You're the psychologist," Charlie said, "you tell me."  
"I can't, that's my point, some of these people are lying, that's just people, but some of them have gone through crazy things, and they didn't do it to themselves. Someone had to seek out and target these specific individuals, using them for their experiments without their consent, and since it's all so crazy and no one really takes it seriously, these people end up marginalised, ridiculed and never see justice, so the circle of exclusion closes. There are private groups and societies that provide support and connect people with similar experiences, but like I said, it's all very us against them."  
"I know what you mean," Emily sighed, chasing peas around her plate, "try being a math geek in a hippy home. Mom was supportive, but she never really understood me."  
"Good thing you're a Scully," Charlie said, "we're a stubborn lot."  
"And thank God for that." Mulder smiled and raised his glass of water, for lack of a better toast. "To stubborn Scully's, who never give up without a fight."  
Emily glanced up and met Mulder's eyes, his warm smile oddly familiar, and a thought dawned on her. "Never," she grinned and raised her beer, looking at Charlie.  
"We don't mind some help, though." He said, raising his bottle. Glass clinked.  
"And that's probably the core of your strength." 

They left Mulder's place around nine, full and happy, the Bill incident all but forgotten. Emily looked out the windshield at the rain that started drizzling, waking up the wipers to squeak lazily. The streets were almost empty, carb coma took over the city.  
"Does Will know?" She said, moving her gaze to Charlie.  
"Know what?"  
"No Will," she let her breath wheeze, "I am your father."  
"What?"  
"Search your feelings," she kept up the poor Darth Vader impression, "you know it to be true."  
"Stop that."  
"C'mon Charlie," she grinned, sensing she was onto something, "the smile, the jaw, the matching DNA!"  
Charlie kept his eyes on the road. "You really are a Scully."  
"Holly shit!"  
"Language!"  
"So it is true."  
"Dana's going to kill me," he sighed, "yeah, Mulder is Will's dad."  
"How does that work?"  
"Listen kid," he said, emotions flaring, "it was a long time ago. You were just a toddler, rambling with your mother when it happened. What Bill said tonight, was just a shadow of how it was back then and none of us want to go back. If you have the guts, ask Dana about it. All I can say, is that it ended when Will was born and everybody loved him ever since, he's ours. And even if Dana's reasons might have been childish, she loved him the most and she's a great mom."  
"Easy there, uncle Charlie," she said, teasing but only slightly, "I won't tell anyone, if that's what you mean."  
"Don't tell Will," Charlie took a deep breath, reining in his temper, "or Mulder. Let Dana do it, when she's ready."  
"Okay, I promise." She said, smiling slightly. "But you have to admit, it's cute as hell."  
"Em, Will is going to live," he sighed, "that's all I care about."  
"What are the odds." She mused, laugh still in her voice.  
Charlie smiled and said, "Apparently, one in five billion."


	13. Chapter 13

Friday morning was kinder. Mulder's back didn't hurt that bad and the nausea was gone, and even if he was still a little weak, he felt almost like himself again. After breakfast, he decided to kill some time cleaning his desk and fell down the rabbit hole lined with old papers until hunger pulled him from the basement. He was reheating some soup for lunch when the doorbell rang. A quick glance out the window revealed Scully's car in the driveway and somewhere between pulling the doors open and saying hello, a pair of arms around his neck drew him into a tight embrace.  
"Everything okay?" Mulder asked, hugging her back.  
"Yeah," she breathed, kissing first piece of skin she could reach, "how are you?"  
"Cold, a little," he chuckled, relieved, "wanna come in?"  
"Yes, sorry," she said, slipping away, blushing slightly. He kept her close for one more kiss and asked against her lips.  
"How's Will?"  
"Awake," she laughed and stepped inside, slipping out of her coat. "At least awake enough to kick me out."  
"Rude but smart," he said and led her to the kitchen. "You're just in time for lunch."  
"That's what he said."  
"That's my boy," Mulder chuckled bustling around the stove.  
Scully froze for a second, stunned, and Mulder caught the silence, looking over his shoulder. "You want cheese or pastrami on your sandwich?"  
"Cheese," she said, burying the fear and when he turned back to the food, she wrapped her arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his back. "Why are you so good to me?" She asked softly, feeling expelled breath before soft laugh reached her ears.  
"Why do you keep questioning this?" He said, buttering a piece of bread. "You want me to be mean? I can hold the mayo."  
"That would be cruel, indeed," she smiled, hugging him tighter.  
"Yeah, I can be a real jerk. Charlie left pie, it's in the fridge."  
"My brother shared the pie? He must've really liked you," she said, letting go.  
"You didn't say he was a cop."  
"Narcotics squad, we don't like to talk about it."  
"And the girl, Emily? I gather she's Missy's daughter."  
"There's four of us, Charlie is the youngest, then there's me, Melissa and Bill Jr., the eldest. Melissa is divorced, Bill and his wife, Tara, have a son, Mathew. They live on the west coast."  
"You must have been quite a gang as kids."  
"Not really, no," Scully said, setting the pie on the counter, where Mulder already laid out the pan. "Once Charlie grew out of his big brother worship and Missy became too independent to play with her little sister, it was us against them."  
"Did you always win?" He chuckled, taking two bowls out of the cupboard.  
"As much as you can win against someone as stubborn as Bill or independent as Missy, we never got him to do anything and she only did what she wanted, so it was fifty-fifty at best."  
"Family politics never cease to amaze me."  
"We all listened to mom though," she chuckled, rinsing the pan, "at least until high school. We helped at home and got good grades, and in return were allowed a certain freedom."  
"Sounds fair," Mulder said and made room for her by the stove. "So you and Charlie stayed here and they moved away."  
"Bill followed in our fathers' footsteps and joined the navy, so he moved all over the place, and Missy," she moved the pie into the pan and paused to lick her fingers, "Missy always was a restless one. Last day of high school she decided she's not going to college and will go on a road trip and hitchhike all the way to L.A."  
"From?"  
"Annapolis."  
"Maryland?"  
"Yeah, military brats," Scully said, closing the oven door and setting the timer. "My dad went furious, didn't speak to her for days."  
"Which didn't change her mind," Mulder guessed and took the bowls to the table.  
"Not one bit," Scully said following with spoons and sandwiches. "Couch?"  
Mulder grinned and turned for the living room. "Sure, so Missy went hitchhiking."  
"We didn't hear from her for months," she said, folding herself on the couch and taking the bowl, speaking between blowing gently on the soup. "Occasional postcard at best, phone call for birthday, that sort of thing, until she showed up for Christmas that year."  
"That's harsh," Mulder said, wincing because he burned his mouth.  
"Yeah, but by that time we were just happy to have her home, safe and sound. She made her point and my parents didn't try to tie her down anymore." She paused to take a bite of sandwich. "It went on for a few years, until she had Emily in '87 and came back to settle closer to family."  
"How long did that last?"  
"Good fifteen years, Em and Will were like siblings."  
"And in that time you went to college, then med-school, did a residency in neurology and had Will."  
"Not only that," Scully sipped her soup, avoiding his gaze and talking about Will. "Charlie joined the force, my dad died, Bill moved a few times, got married, then Mat came around, you know, life happened."  
"And there was no guy for you, in all that time." Mulder pressed on, amused.  
"Well, there were men, obviously."  
"But?"  
"No one quite right," she said quietly, looking up from under her lashes.  
"No one?" Mulder teased, scooting closer.  
"Single mom, lots of overtime."  
"I would babysit for you."  
"I bet you would," she smiled and focused on soup and his warmth.  
"I like Charlie," Mulder said after a while, swallowing last of his sandwich. "What's his story?"  
"He's a workaholic, like me," Scully said, fishing her soup, "a little crazy too, restless, like Missy. And he's a shameless flirt, but I don't know where he got that from."  
Mulder laughed. "Maybe that's your father's gift, sailor's soul trapped on land."  
"And the work part?"  
"Ocean makes people tough, persistent," he grinned, taking her empty bowl. "You funnel that drive into your job."  
"You really got us figured out." She said and when he leaned over to set the dishes on the coffee table, she pulled on his sweater, tugging the t-shirt up. Mulder tired to catch her hands.  
"Wow, you don't waste time."  
"It's not that," she laughed, swatting at his palms, "let me see the marks, I want to make sure you're healing alright."  
"From those little pinpricks?"  
"Don't give me that."  
He laughed, but hissed when she pulled on the tape holding the gauze. "I feel fine," he said, felling her cool fingers, "the nausea is gone, my appetite is back, I can go back to work on Monday."  
"There's no inflammation around the scabs," she agreed, then ripped the rest of the tape away, making him flinch. "Sorry, I need to change these."  
"And here I thought you had such pleasant bedside manner."  
"One more," she said and tugged.  
"Ouch!"  
"Done, you won't need these anymore, simple bandaid will do."  
"Upstairs bathroom, behind the mirror."  
"I'll be right back."  
Scully kissed the tip off his ear, and leaving him laughing, dashed up the stairs and back, a second later.  
"You're fast," Mulder chuckled when she climbed behind him again.  
"Have to," she said, "thanks for keeping my toothbrush."  
"Thought you might be needing it again."  
"Definitely. This will feel a bit cold."  
She cleaned the spot on his left side, stuck the bandaid on and moved to his right. Few more swipes of her cool hands and she was done. Resting chin on his shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his waist, warming fingers on bare skin under the t-shirt.  
"Wasn't that bad was it?"  
"No, when do you need to get back?"  
"I promised to be back by dinner time," she said then sighed. "I hate this waiting game, it makes me feel helpless and it's driving me crazy."  
"I had terrible dreams," he confessed quietly, "Will's blood turned into green acid and melted right through his body."  
"Mulder," she crooned and pulled him closer.  
"When was the last time you really slept?"  
"Last time I was here, Tuesday?" She shook her head and hugged him tighter. "Feels like a lifetime ago."  
Unlocking her arms gently, he turned and put his arms around her, pulling her down on the seat beside him. "It's too early for bed," he said, leaving her room to snuggle against his chest, "but if you want we can move."  
"No, this is okay," she sighed and wriggled a little, hand searching for skin under his sweater, tickling lightly. "Blanket?"  
"Sure." Covered, they warmed fast. "Try to relax," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.  
"Now I'm good," she sighed, and melted into his side.  
"When did this happen?" He mused, absently drawing circles on her shoulder. "A week ago we were hardly dating, and now look at us."  
"Old married couple," she murmured under her breath, "sleeping in the middle of the day."  
"We should get out more."  
"And do what?"  
"Get out of town, go stargazing."  
"In December?"  
"Could be fun."  
"Can't we go someplace warm?"  
"The movies?"  
"And neck in the last row?"  
"I love the way your mind works."  
"It's a date then," she laughed softly, "now let me sleep."  
And together they slept, peacefully. 

He was helping her into her coat later that evening.  
"You really don't have to stay up for me."  
"It's no problem, I'm a bit of a night owl, you know."  
"Mulder," she sighed, taking his face in her hands, pulling him down to kiss then rest her forehead against his. "Sleep is important, it helps you heal, and even if you feel better, you haven't healed yet. Go to bed, rest, I'll be back tomorrow."  
"But you haven't told me what you're thankful for, yet."  
"I'm thankful for you," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, "for everything you are, and all you've done."  
"That sounds awful like a goodbye," he whispered, hugging her tighter.  
"I know," she hugged him back, "but trust me, it's not."  
Fingers tangled in her hair and his lips were on hers, a deep, hungry kiss that stole breath and wiped out reason. This was Mulder who needed her as much as he cared for her. She heard the words I love you before, but never felt them painted on the roof of her mouth, hugged into her heart and filling her lungs, and she never felt more alive giving them back.  
"Thank you." Mulder breathed, breaking the lock.  
"For what?"  
"For not shutting me out," he said, softening the embrace, tucking the raw need away. "That's what I'm thankful for."  
"You're easy to please," she sighed, brushing his lips before letting go. "I really have to go."  
"Tell Will I said hi."  
"I will."  
Mulder smiled and leaning on the doorframe, watched her go, remembering to add one more thing to his shopping list for tomorrow.

It was almost noon when Scully stood on the porch, ringing the doorbell again and again, getting nothing, despite his car in the driveway.  
"Aren't those heels a bit high to sell girl scout cookies?" Asked a warm voice behind her and as she turned, Mulder was coming up stairs. He paused two steps from the top and she met him on the edge, eye to eye for once.  
"Four dollars," she said talking his face in her hands. His cheeks felt cool, but lips were as warm as always, soft and yielding and parting for her. He tasted like nuts, raisins and chocolate. "Have you been buying cookies from someone else?"  
"Never." Mulder smiled and kissed her once more before letting go, arm around her waist guiding her to the door.  
"I stopped by the bakery," he said rummaging through his pockets searching for keys.  
It took a second but he found them and when he dangled the ring in front of her, she noticed it oddly bare, a single key, no keychain.  
"What's this?"  
"For you," he said, letting go and leaning against the wall.  
Her eyes went wide. "Mulder, I can't."  
"Call it a spare," he smiled, "for as long as you'll need it." Looking at the key in his outstretched hand then up at him, she saw humour laced with sincerity. "Whenever you need me, use it."  
"What if I never give it back?" She asked and Mulder shrugged, giving her the same cheeky smile he passed on to his son. "God, you're serious."  
"I'm cold and I've got cookies, but the coffee's inside, so?"  
Scully took the key and slipped it into the lock, it turned smoothly. "Let's have coffee."  
"You've got the best ideas," he said and followed her in.


	14. Chapter 14

Even if Will was a hair taller than him, he looked small and fragile, curled up in his hospital bed, surrounded by lights that never faded and mechanical sentinels, keeping watch over him 24/7. Does that bring comfort to him? Knowledge that a little piece of plastic stuck to his chest will know that something's wrong and call for help. Does he fear something bad might happen when he sleeps? Probably not, he was always surrounded by love. Maybe that's something for parents to feel. Maybe that's what being a parent fells like.  
The beanie on Will's head was grey, with huge, black, almond shaped eyes embroidered over his forehead. Aliens' face, Mulder thought and the boy stirred.  
"Hey kid," Mulder said when the boy looked up.  
"They made you ware the hat," he mumbled sleepily.  
"I'm man enough for it."  
"Yeah, you make it look real good."  
"How are you doing?"  
"Less like dying than this time last week."  
Mulder grinned, even if the boy couldn't see it behind the mask. "That's good."  
"Yeah, I feel so too."  
"Your mom says your results are improving."  
"Thanks to you." Will smiled faintly trying to sit and took Mulder's offered hand, pulling himself up a little higher on the pillows. "Thank you."  
"No problem." Mulder said casually.  
"No, I mean, for the thing," Will said, looking down, worrying his cuticles, then up again stopping himself and meeting Mulder's gaze, "thank you."  
"Don't," Mulder said, covering the boy's hands with one of his, "don't thank me, just get well, okay?"  
"I'll do my best."  
"I'm sure you will."  
"So," Will cleared his throat, "about you and mom."  
"Will," Mulder rolled his eyes.  
"No, c'mon, don't give me that," he laughed, "I just want you to know, that now, with me staying around for a while."  
"A long while."  
"Yes, that," he chuckled, "I'm still okay with that, you two, together."  
"Why do you keep saying that?"  
"Because I know my mom!" He laughed harder. "You better watch out, she might try to wriggle out of this, using me as an excuse. She's done it before so don't let her."  
"What? How?"  
"My family comes first, my son needs stability, I need to focus on work."  
"She said that?"  
"Okay, I eavesdropped when I was younger, I'm not proud," Mulder laughed, "though, I didn't like those guys much, so yeah, I kinda agree with her, but I like you, so, you know, man to man, take my advice."  
"What do you wanna do, when you get out of here?" Mulder asked, wiping his eyes.  
"Major in psychology, obviously." Will grinned and pulled his knees up. "Now, tell me about working for the FBI." 

"Kiss me again," she said, turning beneath him, soft and sleep warm, hair a mess and eyes still closed. Leaning in, he framed her lip gently and this time she gave back the kiss, a faint pressure, soft acknowledgement, like hands reaching, touching fingertips. Her lips curled, arms closed around him. "Good morning."  
"You just made my Monday."  
"I can make your week," she grinned, hand traveling down his back and under the waistband of his PJ's.  
"And what will we do tomorrow?"  
"So much for seduction."  
"You don't have to seduce me," he chuckled and flipped them over, pulling her on top and making her laugh. "You had me at hello."  
"Movie quotes?"  
"Are we doing this or not?"  
She caught the last word, pushing it back into his mouth, wiping it out with a bold sweep of her tongue. Fingernails scraped over his scalp waking his whole body up, sensation rippling through nerve endings, all the way to his toes. He grabbed her ass and searched for skin.  
"We need to talk about these," he mumbled when she let go.  
"I like being warm," she said, tracing kisses down his neck.  
When she slipped past his collarbone and he felt her tongue on his nipple, he asked, "Where are you going?"  
"I'll be right back," she teased and vanished under the sheet.  
She made his year. 

It was almost lunch time and Mulder was walking down the hall to his office, returning greetings from passing students and looking through mail that stacked up over the week.  
"Professor Mulder," said a cheerful voice, making him pause. He turned and smiled, taking the man's hand.  
"Dean Harris."  
"Professor Mulder, this is Mrs. Margaret Scully, one of our most generous donors."  
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Scully," Mulder smiled, shaking the woman's hand and when their eyes met, he knew that she knew.  
An assistant caught up to them and said something to the Dean, under her breath.  
"Yes, thank you Clair," he said then turned to Mrs. Scully. "I'm so sorry, a small emergency is calling, can I leave you with my colleague for a minute?"  
"Of course, I don't want to pull you away from your duties, thank you for the tour."  
"Oh no, Mrs Scully, it is us who's thankful for your contribution," he said, shaking her hand, then nodded to Mulder. "Professor."  
"Dean Harris," Mulder nodded back then looked at the small, elegant, dark haired woman. Her eyes were soft and kind, set in a small face marked with as many worry lines as laugh lines.  
"Can we find someplace quiet to talk, mr. Mulder?"  
"Of course," Mulder said, and showed her to his office. 

"The school is very grateful for your donation, Mrs. Scully," Mulder said, taking her coat and hanging it by the door.  
"As am I for yours," she replied, warm, but straight to the point. “I’m sorry for coming to you like this, but I had to thank you in person, for everything you’ve done for my family.”  
He guided her to the chair in front of his desk, feeling his ears burn.  
"You don't have to thank me," he said, taking his own chair to her side. "Be proud of them."  
"I am, Dana was always the strongest one, strong and stubborn."  
"But also kind," he finished for her gently. Though there was no reproach in her tone, he sensed old tension between mother and daughter.  
"Yes, of course." She smiled and took his hands in hers. "I know you've been a friend to her these past few weeks and I'm grateful for that too."  
"Mrs. Scully, this really isn't necessary."  
"But it is," she said, looking up, her eyes tearing up, "I wish she met you sooner, I wish you were there for her always. I'm proud of my daughter, the work she'd done, the way she raised William on her own, but what mother wants to see her child alone. When she called me and told me you agreed to be the donor, I felt as if a miracle had happened. As if God had put you in their path, exactly when they needed your help."  
"Mrs. Scully, please."  
Tears spilled over, rolling down her cheeks and he handed her his handkerchief.  
"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't put this on you." She sighed, wiping her eyes, careful not to smear the light makeup. Another breath and she sounded almost calm. "What I'm trying to say is that, I don't know what your plans are, but if you ever need help, our family will be there for you."  
"Thank you." Mulder said simply, patting her hands. "Would you a glass of water?"  
That made her laugh. "Yes please, thank you."  
"I'll be right back."  
He took the pitcher he kept in the office, made sure his phone was in his pocket and the minute he was out the door, called Scully.  
"Hi," she said, her voice sounding a little muffled.  
"Hey, it's me," he said under his breath, "your mother is here."  
"My Mom? Why?"  
"I don't know, I bumped into her and Dean Harris and he said something about donations and she just cried in my office."  
"I'm so sorry, I'll call her right away."  
"No, don't, it's okay, I just wanted to give you a heads up," he said, amused by her embarrassment. "Should I expect anyone else?"  
"I don't think so," Scully sighed, "Missy and Bill left town, and he's the only one I'd be worried about."  
Mulder laughed, "Okay."  
"Will says hi," she added.  
"Hi Will," he said, and suddenly the sound cracked and popped.  
"Just nod and agree to whatever grandma wants," said Will, laughing, "or you'll never get rid of her."  
"What?" Mulder chuckled, and the sound cracked again.  
"Sorry," Scully said, laughing now, "a little hostile takeover took place."  
"He's better?"  
"Much better."  
"That's good," he said and glanced at his watch, "okay, this starts to look conspicuous, I have to get back."  
"Let me know and I'll send the cavalry."  
"Thanks, love you."  
The words rolled off his tongue before he realised, what he'd done and with heart in his throat, he waited for her to speak.  
"Love you, too," she said, very, very softly.

"Hi mom."  
"Hello Dana, how is Will."  
"Better, listen, I heard you went to see Mulder."  
"I didn't, I went to talk to Dean Harris. Meeting Fox was completely coincidental."  
"Then why does this coincidence feels so contrived?"  
"Dana, honey, I did what I felt was right."  
"Putting him on the spot like that?"  
"When were you planning to let us meet him?" Scully froze for a second, which Maggie noticed immediately. "I thought so."  
"Mom, this was probably the craziest week of my life."  
"I know sweetheart."  
"And I think it's still too early to celebrate."  
"Have some faith." Maggie said, completely unconcerned and Scully began to lose her temper.  
"Will you listen to me?!"  
"I am listening and I have the same worries as you, but I'm happy that things are finally working out for the both of you and felt like I had to express my gratitude."  
Scully sat in her office stunned into silence, which her mother took for victory. Will was right, it was useless to resist.  
"I don't know why you keep him a secret," she said finally, "he's a very nice man." 

Having let herself in, Scully found the living room and kitchen empty.  
"Mulder?"  
"Downstairs!"  
His voice came from the direction of doors, that usually stayed closed.  
She left her coat on the rack and followed the sound down a couple of steep steps. The basement was filled with warmth and light, almost half the size of the room above, with hardwood floors and high set windows. Bookshelves took up three of the walls, while the fourth was turned into one, huge message board, wallpapered with newspaper clippings and blurry photos. There was a couch against the wall and a large, beat up desk in the middle of the room.  
"So this is your den?" Scully said, rounding the desk and stepping into his open arms.  
"Office," he said, pulling her into his lap.  
"And the tour didn't involve this place because?" She teased, leaning for her kiss.  
"It's only for the inner-most crowd."  
"In that case, I'm honoured," she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.  
"Tired?"  
"I feel like I could shower and sleep for a week."  
"And it's only Monday."  
"That's what worries me." She said and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "I'm sorry about my mom."  
"Don't be," Mulder chuckled, "it wasn't that bad."  
"I didn't think she'd go looking for you, at work."  
"You had other plans?" Mulder asked, swivelling the chair, amused.  
"I don't know, it's not exactly like introducing a new boyfriend to the family."  
"Isn't that what I am?" He nudged her lightly.  
"You know what I mean."  
"No, I don't think I do."  
Scully sighed and sat up, taking the warmth with her. "I'm too tired for bantering, I'm going to bed."  
"Hey, wait," Mulder said, holding on to her hand, "I'm sorry, don't be mad."  
"I'm not mad, I'm exhausted," she replied, kissing his forehead before getting up. "You coming?"  
"I have to finish this first."  
"Okay, you know where to find me."  
“Scully?” Mulder tugged on her fingers gently, making her turn and look at him before she slipped away. “I love you.” He said, holding her gaze until question on her face turned into a smile.  
“Love you too,” she said, leaning in and brushing his lips one more time. “Goodnight.”  
“Night.”  
Twenty minutes later Mulder climbed in behind her, careful not to jostle the bed, convinced she was already asleep. But when he gently put his arm around her, she leaned into his embrace.  
“I didn’t plan anything,” she sighed, taking his hand. “There just wasn’t enough time to think.”  
“I know.”  
“I wanted you to meet my family, but it doesn't feel right without Will."  
"Scully, there's no reason for you to worry about this," he breathed, gathering her closer into his arms. "I met your mom, your brother, even your niece, the rest can wait, it's done, try to sleep."  
"So you don't mind my pushy family?"  
"Not at all."  
"Okay." She murmured, feeling tension leaving her body as silence stretched and her eyelids grew heavy.  
"By the way," Mulder mumbled half asleep, after a long minute, "your mom invited us to dinner on Friday."  
"I knew it," Scully laughed and accepted the kiss he pressed to her neck.  
"'Night Scully." He murmured.  
"'Night Mulder."


	15. Chapter 15

"You're not fidgeting," Scully said, slipping her arm under his as they walked up the path to her mothers' house.   
"Your mom isn't that scary."   
"You're the first one to say that."   
"First what?"   
"Boyfriend." She smiled looking up and seeing his grin.   
"When was the last time you brought a guy to meet the family?"   
"Don't ask."   
"Okay, now I really want to know."   
"Mulder!" They took the three steps to the front door and he drew her closer into his side, grinning wide.   
"Tell me!" He teased, but she rang the bell and the a second later the doors stood open.  
"Charlie!" Scully smiled, stepping inside and hugging her brother.   
"You're just in time."  
"I thought we're early," Mulder smiled as they shook hands.   
"Here, that's on time, if you're on time, you're late."   
"What if the time isn't set?"  
"Then whoever's last, is late."   
"That's mean."   
"Don't listen to him," Scully laughed and pushed her coat into her brothers' arms. "Emily!"   
"Hi, Aunt Dana." The girl smiled, kissing Scully's cheek then came and did the same with Mulder. "Grandma sent me to tell you dinner's ready."   
"Dana, Fox," Maggie came in, wiping hands on her apron, "good, you're here."   
"Hi mom," Scully hugged her mother then linked her arm through Mulders' again, "this is Mulder, not Fox."   
"Of course," Maggie laughed and took the flowers he brought.   
"Thank you for the invitation," Mulder said and taking a step back to Scully's side, he found her hand, waiting for him, fingers lacing together.   
"Let's agree that from now on, you're not just invited, you're expected."   
"Mom," Scully sighed, "we just got here."   
"Who's hungry?" Charlie said, comically cheerful.   
"I'm hungry," Emily chimed in.   
"You're always hungry," he laughed.   
"Will would understand me," she pouted and turned on her heel, clinking buckles and creaking leather.   
"He'll be back, before you know it." Scully said and followed, pulling Mulder along. "And you'll fight for the best bits."   
"Once he's back, he can have them all."   
"He might want that in writing," Charlie chuckled.   
"Then he will have to go through my lawyer," Emily laughed and walked through to the dining room. Scully followed and paused, clearly surprised by the amount of food on the table.  
"You didn't say we're redoing Thanksgiving," she said.  
"It's just a dinner," Maggie replied taking her usual place.  
"It looks delicious," Mulder said and pulled out a chair for Scully.   
"Come, sit down and enjoy." 

Scully leaned against his side, playing with her wine glass. That was by far the nicest family dinner he attended, though admittedly, his own family gatherings didn't set the bar very high. He felt full and content enough to doze off on the couch, and that was the best feeling he could imagine right now.  
Charlie took the end of the couch while Emily sat on the floor, trying to lure Stubb from her grandmas' lap. The feather on a stick got nothing but a twitch of whiskers from the ginger cat, who true to his name, missed a piece of his tail, but like his book counterpart, retained his good humour despite the feline misadventure. After rubbing on all shins and collecting all due pats and scratches, he settled in his mistresses hands.   
"Tell us about your family, Fox." Maggie said from the armchair by the fireplace.   
"There's not much to tell," Mulder said, "my father worked for the DOD and died in '95, mom stayed on the Vineyard after they divorced and there she died, in the spring of 2000."  
"I'm so sorry."  
"It's okay. After my sister disappeared in '73, we sort of started to live on our own anyway."   
"That's horrible," Maggie said appalled.   
"It's ancient history. I go out to the island once a year, to visit the graves and make sure the house still stands."   
"You have a house on Martha's Vineyard?" Scully asked.  
"Usually I rent it out, saving a week or two for myself in the summer."  
"I'll remember that," she said, sipping her wine, "it's always nice to get out of town for a while."   
"Consider yourself invited," he said, drawing her a little into his side, then looking up, "that goes for all of you."   
"Can I book two weeks right now?" Emily asked opening her arms for the cat, who finally decided he wanted the toy more than a nap. "I'll pay, obviously.  
"Don't be silly. I'll email you the number for my realtor and let her know she should expect a call. It's always open for family."   
"Thank you," she said and grinned, picking up the cat to look into his green eyes, "Uncle Mulder."   
Maggie and Mulder laughed, but Scully levelled a glare at her brother. Charlie shrugged almost imperceptibly and took a sip of scotch, ignoring her frown.  
"We should all go together, a family vacation," Emily said, looking up at Scully, "Will would love that."   
"Small steps, Em," Scully said, "we'll see if he's up for it."   
"Any ideas for Christmas?" Charlie asked.   
"Haven't thought about it yet, if his results keep improving, they might loosen the quarantine procedures, but is it worth the risk?"   
"He will have to come out of there, eventually," Mulder said.   
"Christmas happens every year," she said a little sad, "Will happens once in a lifetime."   
"We'll think of something," he sighed.   
"Is everything okay, honey?" Maggie asked.   
"Sure, I just had a long day, that's all."   
"You wanna go home?" Mulder said softly, dropping a kiss on her temple, but she shook her head lightly.   
"Not yet," she said and handed him her glass, "I'll just rest my eyes for a minute."   
"Okay."   
The conversation flowed around her, touching Mulder's childhood on the island, the house and his travels. Some stories she heard and some were new, especially ones from his Oxford years. All the while, Mulder stayed as warm and relaxed as ever, as if he always belonged there. And when he and Charlie realised, they both traveled to New York to see Red Sox play against Yankees in September, she realised, he not only belonged, but became one of them. 

They came back to her place, somehow feeling that that's the right bed to end the day in.   
"You want tea?" She asked, when he helped her out of her coat, ever the gentleman.   
"Will there be rum in it."   
"No rum, sorry."   
Mulder followed through the living room, and caught up to her by the sink, where she filled the kettle from the tap. He put his arms around her, pulling her back to his front.   
"Then we'll have to think of something else to keep us warm," he said against the side of her neck, "beside tea."  
"I don't recall you having any trouble with that," she teased, leaning against him.  
"You're my great inspiration," he chuckled, but let go when she moved to set the kettle on the stove.   
"I need to shower first," she said, turning and pulling his face down for a kiss. "Can you do this?"   
"So it's me making the tea?"   
"I really need to pee."   
That made him laugh.   
"Go, I'll take care of this," he said, kissing her again.   
"Thanks."

She left him to roam free around the kitchen, pulling out mugs and her favourite Earl Grey. He found lemon in the fruit basket and sliced it in half, little thing he knew she liked, and while he waited for the water to boil, a picture on the wall caught his eye.   
It was a simple landscape scene, seaside sunset in orange and purple, but in the foreground, with their backs to the camera, sat Scully, in a sundress and a straw hat, saying something to Will, sitting beside her on the sand. He couldn't be older than five, and God did she look beautiful. The scene radiated love, a sweet and tender moment caught so perfectly, that he almost felt jealous he wasn't there to witness it. There was a date below the picture, July 1996 with initials, CS. The jealous feeling died the minute he saw the inscription, Charlie Scully was a man of many talents. Mulder followed the trail of family portraits captured on various occasions, from birthday parties to Christmases. The kettle whistled when he was looking at a picnic scene, in which Scully fed watermelon to a three year-old Will. His face was pink as was his stained shirt, but their smiles were so vibrant, they made him laugh softly.  
"What's so funny?" Scully asked from a distance.   
Mulder turned and saw her come in, wearing a short, silk nightgown under a long, loose kimono. Both very modest, demure even, but the gown had just a touch of lace trim and it was enough to make his knees weak.   
"Okay, I feel underdressed," he said, as she came closer, barefoot and stunning.   
"You like it?" She said, puling the midnight blue robe around herself a little.   
"You might say that."   
He swallowed hard, watching her take the mugs from the counter on her way, and handing one to him, while glancing at the wall.   
"Will and watermelon," Mulder said, gathering his wits and gesturing with the mug to the picture.  
"Oh, that one, we were in California that summer and he really discovered fruit that year, loved it ever since." She took a small sip and looked up. "You want to see more?"  
"Show me everything."  
He watched the silk float around her curves and shins, as she pulled albums from shelves and brought them back to the coffee table. She took the first one and folded herself on the couch against his side, filling his space with her warmth.   
"Before we begin," she said, keeping her hand on the cover, holding the thick volume shut, "please, remember this was early 90's and my hair was…"   
"Wonderful, I'm sure of it." He finished, taking the album from her hands.   
First page held a single picture, Scully in a hospital bed, looking up into the camera, holding a little bundle of blankets in her arms.   
"He was so tiny," she said wistfully, "but there was always something in his eyes, like he knew more than he showed."   
"That's all you," Mulder said, pulled into this tender scene, "you can make or break someone with one look."   
"No I don't."   
"Yeah, you do," he chuckled, turning the page, "but he only got love from you. Look at this." He ran his fingers around a photo, again showing Scully watching Will in her arms, nursing happily, his tiny palm closed around her thumb. "That's love."  
"He was two months old."   
"Who took this one?"   
"Charlie, that's why he's hardly in any picture," she said, leaning on his side, "he's the family photographer."   
"Here's one." Mulder laughed seeing Scully's brother holding Will in his outstretched arms, little arms flailing and tiny feet squashing his perfect nose. "Why do I find this hilarious?"   
"Because it is, Will was a fighter, putting him to bed took hours." Scully laughed sipping tea, "only way was to tire him before the bath, warm water calmed him down and he usually fell asleep nursing. Those were the good nights."   
"And the bad ones?"   
"Oh, he wouldn't fall asleep for the world, the little night owl. But he wasn't fussy or scared, he just played in his bed, minding his own business."   
"We would've gotten along nicely." Mulder said, turning the page to more baby and holiday pictures, pausing by a photo of Will holding on to the edge of a coffee table.  
"Look at him, he's so proud."   
"End of an era," Scully smiled looking over his shoulder, "after that, I had to have eyes around my head."   
"He looks like a runner."   
"He does, but he always loved water best."   
She pointed to another picture, where they were sitting in a paddling pool laughing, as Will slapped his tiny arms and legs against the surface, sending water splashing everywhere.   
"A regular sea monster," Mulder chuckled and turned the page to find a photo of Emily, maybe six years old, and Will with his nose and elbows covered in scabs. "What happened here?"   
"He tried to run," she sighed, smoothing down a corner that got unglued. "He saw Emily walking through the yard and just ran to her."  
"Poor kid," Mulder crooned.  
"You'd think so, but he barely cried, he always was a tough cookie."  
"That's because he grew up watching you," Mulder said not even trying to hide the admiration, "don't underestimate the strength you're projecting, a self-sufficient, capable and independent figure, who also gave him love, care and support he needed. Positively reinforced example."   
"Sometimes I forget you teach psychology at Harvard," she smiled, kissing his cheek and leaning her head on his shoulder.   
They browsed through the album, watching Will grow from a wobbling toddler into a small boy. Pictures of first bike rides, country fairs and family trips to Chicago, Washington, D.C., New York. Mulder paused on a picture of Will in a New York Yankees jersey, a classic baseball card shot.  
"Wow."  
"What?" Scully said, startled out of her reverie.  
"I've got the exact same picture," he said laughing under his breath, "I mean, the uniform is a bit different but still, he could be me. I guess all kids look alike at a certain age."   
"No, that's not it," she said and her tone made him look up from the album and meet her gaze.  
"Then what is it?"  
"He's your son," Scully said.   
For a second he wanted to tease her back, laugh about it, roll his eyes, but though her tone was warm, he saw she was scared.  
"What?"   
She shifted a little, staying close while turning to see him. "Remember when I told you how I had Will, after I had a terrible fight with the guy I was with?""He didn't think you can do it," Mulder said.  
"My friend is a fertility specialist and she agreed to help me with the procedure."  
"What procedure?"   
"In Vitro fertilisation," Scully said, holding his gaze, though her cheeks burned and her hands were starting to shake. "I had Will through IVF," then she added quietly, "using donor sperm."   
Mulder's blood ran cold and he hid his face in his hands. "Oh sh…"  
"Did you ever?" She asked gently.  
"I," his voice came muffled, "I did, once. I never told anyone about it." He felt her side pressed against him, arm around his shoulder. "It was supposed to be anonymous."   
"I contacted the bank and they gave me a few options to chose from."  
"The blood test before transplant," he said, looking up, "that's how you found out."   
"Yes,"  
"And you didn't tell me."   
"I couldn't bring myself to do it," she said quietly, her eyes growing wet, voice breaking, "if anything went wrong, if the transplant didn't work." Tears spilled and she looked away. "I couldn't give you a son, just to take him away."   
For the first time that night words failed him, but he puled her into his arms, feeling his shirt grow hot as she held on tight. All the conversations with Will were coming back, the pain he felt at the thought this kid might be gone someday, amusement mixed with respect, when he tried to play the matchmaker, wanting to take care of his mother, the relief he felt, when he heard he was getting better, and suddenly, it all made sense. He had a son, a brilliant kid with bright blue eyes and a huge heart. A kid who facing death, cared more about others than himself, honest and kind young man. Could he have done it better?  
"We have a son." He whispered and felt tears burn down his face.   
"Why IVF? Couldn’t you just find a guy?" He asked once he found his voice again and once he spoke, she began to relax.   
"I was crazy back then," she sniffed, snuggling closer, "the thought I'd have to deal with some guy for the rest of my life, someone who might show up one day and ruin what I build for the baby and myself. In my head, it was the worst thing possible."  
"You could have at least tried," he chuckled, kissing her neck, "maybe we’d meet sooner."  
"Or we would never end up together. Maybe now, instead of sitting on this couch, I'd be mourning my son, cursing his father, wherever he was."   
"You wouldn't be together?"   
"I wasn't ready to share myself with anyone yet, I wanted a child, but that didn't mean I felt that my life lacked."   
"Unconditional love."   
"Everyone told me I was crazy, even Charlie."   
"Really?"  
"He said, I love you Danes and I'm with you, but this is crazy."   
"And your mother?"  
"She thought so too, she thought I should wait, that Daniel wasn't the right man, that someone would show up, who would love me and our child." Scully looked up and cupped his cheek, meeting his eyes with warmth, "she didn't know, I'd have to wait twenty years for him."   
Mulder leaned closer and caught her lips, feeling them tear-soft and willing. "I still wish you told me sooner."   
"I couldn't." She sighed, resting her forehead against his, cool fingers scratching at the base of his scull. "If it failed, if Will died because of the transplant, I couldn’t risk watching you go through that."  
"And if I wasn't a match? Would you leave me one day, without telling me why?"   
"God no," she pulled him back into a hug, "I love you too much."


	16. Chapter 16

She pulled his mouth to hers and it was as if they were kissing for the first time. Mulder pushed the album gently aside and puled her into his lap, feeling the warm, trembling silk under his palms. They didn't rush. Holding tight and slowly claiming his mouth, she grounded his heart. These kisses could last a lifetime, if only he had time to breathe.  
"You wanna go to bed?" She asked, never letting go of his shoulders.  
"I don't think I can sleep," he said and they both laughed, relaxing into each other. He ran his hands over her back, feeling the silk slip under his palms. "Where did you get this robe?"  
Looking up, she met his smiling eyes. "I tell you, you have a son and you ask about my sleepwear?"  
"I guess I am."  
"It was a gift," she explained, "from Will and Emily."  
"Wow, that's not something a son would buy for his mom."  
"But definitely something a grown-up niece would buy for her single aunt." That made him laugh. "She spent some time in Japan, and Will went to visit."  
"Japan? Impressive."  
"That's Missy in Emily, once she tasted independence, she could never stay long in one place. Will brought this back, saying he and Em picked it out for me, when they visited Kyoto. You like it?"  
She spread her arms, letting the sleeves fan out and he saw white cranes flying across midnight sky.  
"It's amazing."  
"You can borrow it sometime," she teased, watching as his expression changed to somber again.  
"Does Will know?" Mulder asked and she lowered her gaze, drawing reassurance from his embrace.  
"He does about the IVF." She said, swallowing the memory. "When he turned sixteen he became obsessed with this idea that his father abandoned him. So I told him the truth."  
"How did he take it?"  
"Pretty good, considering age and his rebellious streak."  
"Meaning?"  
"He didn't talk to me for a week."  
"I'm sorry."  
"He thought he was a vanity project."  
"What did you do?"  
"Charlie talked to him, and we never spoke of it again."  
"You know what he said?"  
She shook her head, pulling herself closer. "Right now I'm just happy you're still talking to me."  
"Don't worry," he sighed, hugging her tightly, "I'm not going anywhere."  
"What about bed?"  
He laughed and kissed her neck. "Okay, fine, let's go to bed." 

With her arm around his chest and her thigh draped over his leg, it was easy to believe, that this could be the first night of the rest of his life. Warm breath washed over his neck, filling his head with a mixture of shampoo, body lotion and something unidentifiably feminine, bringing up images of homemade cookies and clouds of perfume in the morning.  
This tiny weight draped over his side, once carried a life inside her. They grew together, winning, failing, learning.  
Now where did he fit into that story? Certainly not in the main credits. A supporting role, somewhere in the third act, maybe, Will's Father. Even if they shared genes, he couldn't claim the title with a clear conscience. He wasn't there for his first fever, first step, first bike rides and fist scraped knees. The thought humbled him and put fear in his heart. What if Will still believed his father abandoned him? What if now, he would refuse to accept him? What if this new knowledge, once more turned him against his mother? And what did Mulder actually know about the role of an adult male in a young man's life? His own father abandoned him, he could at least relate to that. Could he be the father, his father never was?  
Scully stirred beside him, drawing herself closer, fingertips flexing on his chest.  
"I can feel you thinking," she mumbled.  
"Shhh, go back to sleep."  
But she was already shifting, lips grazing skin and climbing onto his chest. Face to face in the faint glow of waning moon, he felt fingers comb through his hair.  
"It'll be okay," she whispered, honouring the midnight hush.  
Mulder sighed, running his hands over her thighs and back. "I'm sorry, I just have trouble processing it all." Beyond words, she let her head drop, and he held on. "Where do I fit in, Scully?"  
"Here," she replied softly, wrapping her arms around him. "Right here." 

Scully woke up late, in an empty bed.  
"Oh no," she groaned and rolled over, burying her face in his pillow, "it was too good to be true."  
She breathed in the last of his scent, cold but still there. If she could have it bottled, just to have something to remember him by.  
"Hey, I still need that."  
She heard his voice and looked up, but blinded by her own hair, all she got was a soft thump and a laugh, when she tried to blow the tresses away from her eyes.  
"You still there?" He chuckled, parting the strands and taking her face in his hands. "There you are, good morning."  
"I thought you left." She said, before giving back the small kiss that was quickly becoming the best part of her morning.  
"Ye of little faith," he grinned and kissed her again.  
Scully sat up, giving back the pillow in exchange for a steaming cup of coffee. The pillow landed against the headboard, followed by Mulder, then her back, resting against his side and finally his arm around her waist. Settled, they both sighed.  
"Thanks for telling me," Mulder said, pressing a kiss to her skin before resting his chin on her shoulder. "When do you want to tell Will?"  
"I don't know," she said taking a sip, "he's so fragile right now."  
"But he's a grown-up too," Mulder said gently, "he has the right to know."  
"It's been ten days since transplant," she sighed, "I don't want stress to ruin his recovery."  
"Will he suspect something, if I visit more?"  
"Maybe, but he adores you, so we might get away with it, for a while at least."  
"Who else knows?"  
"Charlie," she said, sheepishly. Mulder chuckled.  
"That explains things."  
"And I guess Emily."  
"That's why she called me Uncle Mulder."  
"I don't know if Charlie told her or she figured it out on her own, it's like she has a sixth sense or something. I'll talk to her before I set out to kill my baby brother."  
"It's your mother I was worried about."  
"Oh, there's no need," Scully laughed, "you saved her favourite grandson, you could eat fried kittens for breakfast and she'd still love you."  
"Kittens?"  
"Or puppies."  
"I'm going vegan."  
"No you're not."  
She laughed and turned, setting her mug on the nightstand and draping one, slender, bare leg over his lap. The short, silk nightshirt rode up, and she saw his eyes follow the tantalizing lines.  
"You're right, I'm not," he teased, his tone turning smoky as he pushed her to lean back, "just don't tell your mom what I really like for breakfast." 

"Hey kid." Mulder said when Will woke up.  
"Hi, where's mom?"  
"They called her in to some ER emergency."  
"Oh, right, it happens sometimes."  
"So, what's with the face wear."  
"You guys wear something all the time, I got jealous."  
"Don't joke."  
"They say my saturation is a little low," Will said, fixing the tube under his nose, "I told them, I could use some fresh air, but they insisted on this canned stuff."  
"Not a fan of the can?"  
Will laughed and rubbed his nose. "It tickles."  
"Leave it, try not to think about it."  
"There's not much to think about left."  
"What did you think about?"  
"You know, the usual, school, girls, grades."  
"Girls."  
"There's this nurse who usually comes for nightshifts."  
"And?"  
"I think she likes me."  
"You're a likeable kid."  
"No, I mean, she doesn't call me honey or darling, like the other mother hens around here."  
"What does she call you."  
"Will, just Will, and she doesn't treat me like a needle cushion. Very gentle, nice hands too, from what I could tell through the latex."  
"What else?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"You said you thought about FBI, investigative work. Even the smallest detail can be crucial to solving a case, so, pay attention. Practice on something that's easy on the eye before you have to deal with the gruesome stuff."  
"What did you see?"  
"You don't wanna know, and I don't feel like remembering."  
"That bad?"  
"If it didn't affect me so much, I would probably be an FBI agent, myself."  
"Agent Mulder," Will said, testing the words, "it has a nice ring to it."  
Mulder laughed. "It does, doesn't it." 

"Dinner's in the oven." Scully said, plopping down on the couch, then promptly falling over. She pulled one of the throw pillows under her head and set the egg timer on the floor, making the little bells inside chime quietly.  
"Okay, but I repeat, you should have let me help, I'm surprisingly apt in the kitchen."  
"I'm sure you are, but this is my way of winding down. I tend to take out my frustrations on the chopping board and I wouldn't want you to get into crossfire."  
"That dangerous, huh?"  
"Fair warning."  
"I'll try to remember that, want a blanket?"  
"No, I'm good, ignore me, I'm just gonna doze for a bit."  
"Okay."  
Comfortable silence fell between them. Mulder worked at his desk, Scully relaxed on the couch, timer ticked off minutes going by.  
"What do you want for Christmas?" She asked suddenly, when he was sure she had fallen asleep.  
"What?"  
"Christmas, gifts."  
"I'm half Jewish."  
"And the other half?" She murmured, keeping her eyes closed.  
"Atheist and I think it's always been the bigger half, because it always wins."  
"There's no such thing as bigger and smaller halves," she said, smiling, "a half is a half."  
"Nobody likes a math geek, Scully."  
"Nobody likes a party pooper either, so what do you want for Hanukkah, Mulder."  
"You won't let this go, are you."  
"No," she replied, grinning, still with her eyes closed.  
"Then I'll let you know."  
"Okay, just don't take too long." She said and went back to playing possum. 

"Professor Mulder!"  
Mulder heard someone call and, surprised by the audacity, turned around then laughed.  
"Charlie!"  
The younger man grinned and stopped his bike a foot from where he paused.  
"I had you," he said as they shook hands.  
"No you didn't." Mulder chuckled, "I thought we were meeting downtown."  
"Sadly, I don't have that much time, but I was in the neighbourhood, so I figured I'll catch you here. Traffic is awful."  
"And it's just the beginning of Christmas rush."  
"You're a psychologist, so you gotta have some reasonable, scientific explanation."  
"Nope, beats me, and I don't even participate."  
"Right. Is there somewhere we can sit down around here?"  
"Sure, you wanna eat? There's a good Thai place down the block."  
"Lead the way."  
Charlie got off the bike and they picked up a steady pace.  
"I wanted to give you a heads up," Mulder said after a moment, "Scully is coming for you."  
"She usually does," Charlie laughed, "what is it this time?"  
"You telling Emily about the test results."  
"Oh," Charlie looked up, surprised, "oh! She told you!"  
"Yeah," Mulder smiled, slipping hands into the pockets of his coat and Charlie put his arm around his shoulders.  
"Thank you for what you did," he said with complete sincerity, "Will is a great kid."  
"In large part thanks to you, I imagine."  
"No, thanks to Dana, she did an amazing job raising him. And just when she was about to lose him, she found you, exactly when she needed you the most. I'll be forever grateful for that. Still," his tone changed, if only a little, "if you hurt her, I'll be there to make you pay for it." Mulder glanced up and saw the grin, back in full swing. "What? She is my sister."  
"I'll remember that."  
"I'm sure you will." Charlie laughed, good-naturedly slapping Mulder's back before letting go. "So, is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"  
"No," Mulder chuckled, "actually, it's about Christmas."  
"What about it?"  
"What kind of gifts does she like?"


	17. Chapter 17

Mulder found Scully in her office, staring at slides pinned to the light box. She turned and upon seeing him, smiled wide.  
"What are those?"  
"I stole them from a guy with a broken leg down the hall," he said conspiratorially, handing her a dozen roses, "he won't be able to catch me."  
"Then maybe I should give them back," she teased and buried her nose in red petals, breathed in, her eyes falling shut for a second.  
"Don't you dare," Mulder smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "Hello, Doc."   
"Hi," she kissed him back. "What's the occasion?"   
"I'm taking you out."   
"Out? Where?"   
"To dinner," he said, doubling back for her coat. "It's been a while."   
"But I'm not dressed right, and I'm supposed to visit Will."   
"You look perfect and I already spoke to Will, he's fine, he loves you and he hopes we'll have fun."   
"So it's dinner and fun?"   
"Sort of fun."   
"Just so you know, I don't do ice skating."   
"Oh dear, no," he laughed and held out the coat, "can we go? Or do you want to finish something here first? I can wait."   
"No, we can go," she said turning, and glancing at the roses again, "I'm just worried about these."   
She slipped her arms inside the sleeves, juggling the bouquet as she did.   
"If they die, which is unlikely," he said, pulling her into his arms, "I'll get you two dozen more."   
"You spoil me rotten."  
"It's about time, ‘cause you're worth it."  
"Alright, you old smoothie," she laughed, freeing herself and linking their arms, "now feed me, I'm famished." 

Scully took in the long counter, tall bar stools, fogged up windows and the cooking that was happening right before the patrons. Long strings of noodles sprang out from steaming pots to the rhythm of chopping the vegetables. The place smelled delicious, still, she felt like teasing him a little.   
"So this your idea of fancy, ramen?"  
"I didn't say it's going to be fancy," he grinned stirring his soup. "You said you were hungry, eat up."   
"All the roses, the surprise, I just thought." She shook her head, amused, picking a piece of grilled chicken from the broth. Mulder looked up, doubt creeping into his eyes.  
"You don't like it?" He asked, but she already tasted the food and smiling, went for more. "Oh, okay," he said and went back to his food as well. "I picked this place because it's the closest to where we're heading next."  
"Which is?" Scully asked and Mulder grinned around a mouthful of beef, so she answered for him. "Another surprise." He shrugged and nodded. "If this is some monster hunt, I swear."   
He swallowed fast, put his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "It's not, stop worrying."   
"So stop being so cryptic."   
Mulder laughed, squeezing a kiss between her shoulder and neck just to make her laugh. "Now where's the fun in that." He took a sip of his beer and picked up his chopsticks again. "So, how was your day?"   
So between slurping and laughing, she told him. 

"You still haven't explained the car," she said, pulling on her leather gloves before leaving the restaurant. "What happened to the Ford?"   
Mulder opened the door for her. "Nothing, but we need something bigger for tonight so I borrowed the bus from a friend."   
"Your friend is a fan of classic cars?"   
"Classic, Frohike would kiss you for that," he laughed following her out, "not that I'd let him."   
"Where to next?" She asked, talking his hand.  
"You don't recognize these parts?"  
She looked around as they crossed the street. The wind changed, carrying voices and the scent of cinnamon and pine. Scully laughed.  
"No! How did you know?"   
Mulder grinned and put his arm around her. "Charlie suggested it."  
They followed the chain link fence towards the twinkling lights and music, to buy their first Christmas tree. 

Scully sipped mulled wine from a plastic cup following Mulder until he stopped by a spruce, almost a foot taller than him.  
"Okay, what do you think about this one?"  
"I'm not sure it will fit into my living room," she said grinning.   
"How about mine?"   
"I thought you didn't do Christmas."  
"I feel exceptionally festive this year." He took a step back to examine the tree from afar and Scully leaned into his side, putting one arm around his waist.   
"If it's for me, you don't have to do this."   
"Isn't the tree a vital part of the Christmas spirit?"   
"No, it's about sharing love and spreading kindness and generosity." She looked up and smiled even brighter, "Come to think of it, you could be my Christmas tree."   
Mulder laughed, kissing the cold tip of her nose. "As long as you don't try to wrap me in Christmas lights."   
"Do you even have Christmas lights?"   
"Nope, I was counting on you to help me with that."   
"In that case, we've got some serious Christmas shopping to do, mister."   
"Okay, but what about the tree?"   
"It's nice, but we can do better."   
"So we're picking two?"   
"No," she pushed her hand under his arm and pulled him along, "we'll only need one." 

Once they wrestled the tree inside Mulder's front door and decided on the spot, a little to the side from the fireplace with a nice view from the couch, Scully went about making hot chocolate, leaving Mulder in the living room, looking at the tree.   
"You think there are spiders in it?"   
"Don't tell me you're afraid of spiders."   
"It's not that I'm afraid, I'm just not a huge fan of bugs." He said and went to join her.  
"What could an itty-bitty spider do to a big guy like you?"  
"You know about venomous spiders, right?"  
"In Massachusetts?"  
"Isn't there anything you're scared of?"  
"Once you have a kid, everything scares you," she said over a little pot sitting on the smallest burner, "stairs, power sockets, knives, scissors left lying around. Either you learn to live with that fear or suffocate your kid trying to protect him from anything and everything."  
Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist, chin resting on the top of her head.  
"You did a good job, raising our kid to be brave."  
"I think he hides a lot of his fears behind humor."   
"Better that than violence," he sighed and began nibbling kisses over the side of her neck, "another point for you. Anyone ever told you you're awesome?"   
"You?" She giggled, tilting her chin and leaning into his lips, but her next words came wistful. "I wish you could have been there with me."   
"I'm here now," he murmured against her earlobe, "and we've got all the time in the world."   
He kissed her cheek, before catching her lips, then reached into the cupboard and took out a bottle of Jameson. Mulder liked his hot chocolate Irish. 

They got two strings of rainbow colored lights and two boxes of ornaments. Scully ripped the packaging, unwound couple of feet from the knot and handed the loose end to Mulder keeping the rest to herself.  
"We'll start from the top and work our way down around the tree," she instructed.  
Mulder nodded and set his mug on the mantle. He took the cord, reached up and paused by the highest branch, looking over his shoulder. "Here?"   
"Perfect." She smiled and followed around the tree, untangling the wire for him.  
"This always was Will's favorite part," she said, "even when he barely reached the lowest branches, he would hold the lights trying to help. Then as he grew, we arranged the lights together, and now it's usually him doing the hanging and me holding the wires."   
"And who did it for you, when both of you were too small to reach the top?"   
Scully poked his side and he chuckled.   
"I scaled down the tree to my size," she said and moved the cord he just hung, one level down.  
"How do you know it should go there?"   
Scully shrugged and handed him another yard. "Practice?"   
"At home we never really celebrated anything between Thanksgiving and New Years," Mulder said taking the second set of lights and starting again, at the top. "Not Hanukkah, not Christmas, obviously. My father was too busy, and mom, instead of making an effort for us, waited. Like his word was the law and she waited for his say-so. And then Samantha went missing and even the pretense went out the window. No more fireworks in July, no more thanksgiving. Zip."   
"I'm sorry."   
"It's okay, I guess it would be worse if we tried to force it. You can't miss what you don't know. Then I went to college and stayed at Oxford for Christmas break."  
"I'm almost afraid to ask."   
"We drank and partied and don't ask me what else, because I don't really remember. It felt good to let go for a bit."   
"You don't remember your first Christmas?"   
"We went to London, then Paris, it snowed like crazy that year."   
"White Christmas, nice."   
They made one last round around the tree and Mulder went to kill the lights, while Scully did small adjustments to the arrangement. For a moment the room was illuminated by nothing but the fire in the fireplace and then Mulder came back, knelt on the floor and plugged the lights in. She forgot how to exhale for a second or three, until he was standing behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. Leaning against his chest and feeling his chin resting on top of her head. Barefoot, she fit perfectly, head to toe, into his embrace.   
"Oh wow," she sighed.   
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly." Mulder said and leaned into her, drawing her closer to his lips on the side of her neck.   
"Wait till we hang all the ornaments," she murmured, but his hands were already sneaking under the edge of her sweater, working buttons on her shirt.   
"Ornaments can wait," he breathed and nipped at the skin just above the collar. "I can't."   
"It's just two boxes," she sighed, doing nothing to stop his fingers from finding the tab on the zipper of her slacks.   
"Wanna know a secret?"   
"You discovered a Christmas tree fetish?"   
He didn't say, but fingertips on bare skin made her jump when a caress turned into a tickle, making her squirm in his arms. Mulder pulled her tighter to himself, his hand slipping under the lace trimmed waistband of her panties. She covered his hand through the fabric and ground her hips into his touch.   
"Shame, because I think," he pushed two fingers inside her making her voice hitch, "I think I did."   
Throaty laughter filled her ear and he tugged on her earlobe, a bite soothed with a kiss. Light fractured on her eyelashes and she gave herself over to the sensations of his confident touch and erection trapped against the small of her back. Mulder held her up, one hand kneading the breast, deliciously pinching the nipple, the other pumping in and out, fingers slipping over her clitoris with each pass. It was an exquisite torture. She longed for his warmth not the heat off her clothes, the touch of his skin instead of just his hands and lips.   
"I want to feel you," she moaned and he pushed deep inside her almost lifting her off her feet. But it wasn't the touch that sent a new shiver up her spine, it was his word.   
"No," he growled flicking her nipple and pushing a third finger inside her, curling them. That one spot which usually turned her all aglow set her on fire. "Come for me first."   
It wasn't a plea or a promise, it was an order, one she had no choice but to obey. With his tongue and teeth on her neck, she rocked her hips into his palm and the pleasure that was building exploded from her core, pushing the breath out of her lungs in a moan and knocking her knees out from under her. If it wasn't for his arms around her, she'd collapse. Instead, Mulder lowered her to the floor by the fireplace, tugging on her pants and panties.   
"Breathe, Scully." He said and she breathed, watching him take off his sweater and t-shirt, the flex of muscles and arch of his back as he knelt between her thighs. Light played on his skin, the fire behind him, the Christmas lights above her and his smile when he let his hands glide up her thighs and over hips, to the edge of her sweater and blouse. He pulled and she arched her back, but when the clothes passed her head, he paused leaving her hands trapped inside the sleeves. Scully tried to free herself, but he caught her wrists, pinning them over her head.   
"Leave it," he said, catching her lips in a light kiss.   
Nibbling on her parted mouth he traced his fingers down the inside of her arms. He grazed the delicate skin, fingernails turning tickles into shivers, past the sensitive crooks of her elbows, upper arms and armpits. His lips followed over her throat, the hollow at the base and down her sternum, until they met his hands, cupping both breasts and squeezing through the soft lace and he buried his face between them. She gasped and arched into his touch.   
Never had she surrendered herself so freely, following without a word his soft-spoken commands. Was it because she trusted him? Was it because he had given her so much already? Or was it because she felt that him finally wanting something from her and taking it instead of asking for it, made her feel needed. He finally claimed her. Finally, they were equals.   
She wrapped her thighs around him and resting her feet on his hips brought him back. He unhooked her bra and latched onto her breast, sucking at her right nipple while he pinched the left.   
"Not yet," he murmured between kisses, on his way from the right to the left, "patience."   
And she didn't fight him, letting him kiss his fill. She moved beneath him, panting the lower he kissed, not holding back the moans he elicited when he draped her thighs over his shoulders and opened her up again with his tongue and fingers. Licking inside and outside, he teased her mercilessly, bringing her to the edge, watching her pull on the makeshift restraints, with her back arched off the floor and her breath coming in gasps, just to stop and start all over again. She was lost in sensation when she finally felt him shift, the back of her thighs against his chest, sudden kisses on her calves beckoning her back. She was almost bent in half beneath him, trapped between his thighs and arms as he hovered over her. Mulder waited till her eyes focused on him, until she felt the tip of his cock poised at the entrance of her body, and when he had her full attention he pushed inside her. Slowly, deliberately, never freeing her gaze, he started to thrust, rocking into her, his speed building as she grew wetter with each pass. Deeper and faster, as her walls gripped him tighter. Mulder shifted his balance, changed the angle and freed one hand to stroke around her clit. Sweat glistened in the light of the fire and the tree, and he gave everything he had to her expecting nothing of her but to surrender and take it and he took pleasure in her body. She came hard and didn't even try to hide it, pulling him with her over the edge, his heat filing her to the brim, and drowning out thought.   
Minutes or eons later, she found Mulder pulling out and rolling off her. With one hand he pried open her fingers, still clutching on the fabric of the sweater.   
"Say something," he whispered, pulling her arms down and massaging the life back into her fingers.   
"You've been holding out on me."   
Mulder chuckled but kept working on her hands. "Did you like it?"   
Scully purred and rolled onto her side, straight into his arms. "It's like Christmas came early this year, like, three times." She murmured kissing his warm skin and the chuckle turned into a laugh.   
"I've got nothing," he sighed and brought her hand to his lips, biting the knuckles lightly, "you blow my mind."   
"There's something else I'd rather blow," she said, licking her lips.  
"What about the tree?"   
"What tree?"  
"The Christmas tree behind you," he laughed, "the one with the spiders in it!"  
Scully gasped and scrambled up, scooting as far away as she could until she hit the couch with her back. Mulder stayed where he was, his body shaking with laughter and she realized he wasn't serious. On all fours she crawled back, swatting at his side as hard as she could, getting nothing more than more laugh for her trouble. She straddled his stomach and leaning in, pushed his shoulders into the hardwood floor beneath.  
"Not funny!"   
"A little funny."  
Digging her fingernails into his skin, she dragged them over his chest, not enough to draw blood, just to leave a bright red trace. Mulder hissed, but it was a good hiss, he grabbed her thighs and held on.   
"Hello," she smiled and moved lower, "you like this?"   
"What?"   
Stretching out on his chest, she scored him again, all the way up, until her fingers twined in his hair, turning pain into bliss. "This."   
"Yeah, this."   
With her tongue in his mouth and his fingernails on her back, they made love again in the light of the fire and the Christmas lights. 

The next morning Mulder found Scully on his couch, with a mug of coffee in hand and her feet propped up on the coffee table. He leaned over her and kissed the top of her head.   
"Morning," she said, leaning her head back for another one, on her lips. The day didn't start until he got at least three.   
"You hung the ornaments."   
"We should get you some fun ones."   
"UFO's?" He teased, brushing her smile the third time, the charm.   
"Handcuffs."   
"Warn me, before I open my gifts in front of your mother."   
"I'm thinking neckties and scarves."   
"Try leather belts and gloves."   
"Gloves?"  
He climbed over the back of the couch, picked up the mug she had ready for him and pulled her under his arm. "I like to keep my hands warm."   
"What are we doing today?"   
"Visiting Will."  
"Other than that, obviously."   
"Oh, I don't know, watch tv, hang out, order in."  
"Tie you up and stay in bed until Monday?"   
"Tie me up?" His eyebrow went up on the 'me'.  
"Okay, we can take turns."   
Mulder set the mug on the floor and pulled her legs over his lap. A hand climbed up her thigh, pushing her back into the couch cushions. He pushed past the lace, whispering against her lips.  
"Will you always keep me guessing?"   
"As long as you keep unfolding like a flower."   
"I wish I've met you when I was still in my twenties."   
"You did," she grinned, glancing down, "at least part of you did."   
"Okay," grabbing her hips he pulled her down, "you've asked for it."   
Mulder yanked at the sash and the bathrobe and her thighs fell open.   
They didn't make it for lunch with Will. He didn't mind.


	18. Chapter 18

Mulder slowly opened his eyes, focusing along the length of his arm, over the edge of the mattress and beyond, to the clock on the night table. A silk scarf obscured the time, draped over the display and held down by a pair of handcuffs. He didn't mind, it was December, 25th and it was a good day to be alive. 

The house woke up with Mulder. It creaked in time with his steps, water pumping through its rusty veins, sounds of life shared with another. She missed them at her apartment, missing Will even more.   
On a white Christmas morning, relishing the warmth from the fireplace, she sipped coffee from a chipped FBI mug while creaking floorboards whispered to her of love.   
Mulder sat on the floor and folded his limbs around her, lips brushing the back of her neck before his cheek rested against her shoulder.   
"Merry Christmas," he said, tugging at her t-shirt.   
"Merry Christmas." She replied but laughed when his stubble tickled her bare skin. "What are you doing?"  
"Unwrapping my gift?" He said cupping her breasts. "Isn't that what you do on Christmas morning?"   
"What makes you think I'm the gift?"   
"You are all wrapped up and sitting under my tree, aren't you?"   
Scully laughed and leaned back, turning slightly to catch a kiss. "I won't even try to argue with that logic."  
"Don't bother," he said against her lips, "I'll always win." 

Two orgasms later she lay stretched out on his chest, with her bathrobe draped over them like a blanket.   
"I've never had this much floor sex in my life," she sighed and felt him laugh.  
"It's me with the carpet burn this time."   
"Payback," she smiled and showed him her lightly chafed wrist.  
Mulder brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. "Sorry."   
"Don't be, I liked it." She felt him grin and the kiss turned into a light nibble. "You want to open your gift now?"   
Mulder stretched out folding one arm under his head and closed his eyes, completely at ease serving as her mattress. "You already gave me enough gifts," he said with a satisfied sigh, "but you can open yours if you like."   
"Yeah?" Scully grinned and crawled away. "What is it? An alien implant?"  
"Two," he chuckled, "I had them made into earrings."   
She looked under the tree and laughed reading through the cards.   
"You bought a gift for Charlie? And Emily? Even my mom?"   
"I shouldn't have?"   
"You didn't have to."   
"Well, I wanted to."   
"And my gift is the smallest one." She said shaking the box to hear if it rattled. Mulder sat up and gathered her back into his arms as she ripped at the packaging.  
"It's just a little something."   
Scully finally got through the paper and found a small white box and inside it.  
"A keychain."   
"Apollo Eleven, turn it over."   
"Commemorating Apollo Eleven," she read the inscription in the back, "and the mission to the moon, July 1969."  
"You did great with Will, you both did," he said, kissing her cheek, "you're an amazing mother and he's an exceptional kid and you make a great team. If you let me, I'd like to be a part of your team."   
"Mulder," she sighed, cupping his cheek, "we are a team. It took some time for us to find each other, but I'm not letting you go." He drew her in and rested his forehead against hers and she closed the distance, catching his lips for a second. "Even if you tried, I wouldn't let you go."   
"Never let me go." 

Will saw them walk in and grinned pushing the tray aside as he sat up in bed, arms reaching out to hug his mom.  
"Merry Christmas, darling," Scully said holding him tight.   
"Merry Christmas, mom," Will said, holding on a beat longer than usual. "How did you both get in here?"  
"We bribed the nurse with eggnog." Mulder chuckled, ruffling his hair.   
"And you brought gifts?"   
"Yup, sanitized and packaged in the presence of four certified specialists and officially declared safe and germ-free by Dr. Skinner," Mulder said, keeping his tone light.  
"Can I open it now? You know, before the germs get all over it."  
"If you want to," Scully said and Mulder felt her shoulder tense under his hand.  
"I want to."   
"Then go for it."   
"What did you get?" Will asked glancing up at Mulder.   
"Handcuffs, real ones," he said shamelessly making the boy grimace.   
"I did not need to know that."   
Mulder chuckled but Scully didn't laugh, anxiously watching Will tear at the wrapping paper until he got to the picture frame inside. He looked at the two sheets of film on white background then at his mom.   
"What is this?"  
"A DNA test result."   
"I can see that, whose DNA is it?"  
"Remember how we talked about how you came to be?" Scully said, holding her son's gaze and trying to keep her hands from shaking.   
"The birds, the bees and the Petrie dish," Will said, glancing at Mulder, "I remember."  
"I told you I didn't know who your father was, because I didn't," she paused and took a steadying breath, to keep her voice from breaking. "But when we started to look for a donor for your transplant, I found out that-"  
"Mulder is my dad." Will finished for her.  
Will's gaze traveled from her to Mulder, trace of a smile playing around his lips.  
"How?" Scully spoke but her voice stumbled on the lump in her throat. She swallowed it quickly. "How did you know?"   
"Something Emily said," he explained, smiling at Mulder, "about how we look alike. Did you know?"  
"Not until after the procedure." Mulder replied.   
"You're not angry?" Scully asked, worrying the edge of the sheet. Will moved closer and gathered her into his arms.  
"Why would I be angry?" He said, looking over her shoulder at Mulder. "You saved my life."  
Scully let out something between a laugh and a sob and Will pulled her closer, soothing her quiet tears.   
"I love you, mom," he said softly, "and I won't love you any less, now that I have a dad. You'll just have to learn to share."   
"I can do that."  
Will reached out and gestured for Mulder to join the hug.   
"What about germs?"   
"Today, I don't believe in germs."   
Mulder laughed and put his arms around them both, feeling Scully's shoulders shudder with each breath and hearing William quietly shushing her. No more secrets, no more pretending. He had never felt closer to the truth in his life.   
The intercom cracked and made them all jump.  
"Dr. Scully, please." The voice was thick with disapproval, but Will laughed.  
"The Grinch usually has the night shift," he said quietly, but with great reluctance, he let go of his mom. He leaned on the pillows and pulled the sheets around himself again.   
"So, how did you find out?"  
"Your mom told me after one night Emily called me uncle."  
"She always had that thing, a sixth sense or something."  
"I wanted to tell you sooner," Scully said, taking Mulder's hand and twining their fingers together, "but I was worried you'd run."  
"Not a chance, you had me good and hooked the day you poked me with a needle." He grinned and leaned down to lightly kiss her on the lips.  
"Ew," Will laughed, "you guys are disgusting."  
"Already?" Scully said, turning back to him, keeping Mulder's hand in hers.  
"Don't tell me it's going to be like that when I get home," Will teased and Mulder turned to him, dropping a kiss on top of his head as well.  
"You'll get used to it." 

**Author's Note:**

> Teacher!Mulder AU on a dare from twitter.


End file.
